YEAR1: Rose Weasley and the Callamitus Clause
by Alissie
Summary: Rose Weasley has arrived for her first year at Hogwarts, but things are not as they should be. Can she, along with the Potters and the twins, set it all right? A novel-length fanfiction set directly after the epilogue.
1. Back to Hogwarts

On an unremarkable morning in early September, a quite remarkable train sat on a set of steel tracks. Students bid their parents farewell before climbing onto the scarlet steam engine and greeting their friends. Over-spilling trunks and the smell of new textbooks testified to the fact thatthey were all prepared for the new school year.

One girl faded in among the rest as a small boy clung to her arm, his bright green eyes surveying the scene with uncertainty. They both briefly hesitated and glanced back at their parents before boarding the train.

"Look at her," Hermione Weasley murmured to her husband, who was standing by her side. "Our little Rosie is finally off to Hogwarts."

"Ah, don't get all teary again," said Ron with a groan. "She's a big girl, she'll be fine."

Hermione wiped her eyes and sniffed. "I know," she said, "but still..."

Their daughter reappeared through a window, her green-eyed cousin still by her side. They found their parents and waved as matching grins spread across their faces.

Hermione smiled through her tears and waved back. "But what if something goes wrong?" she asked. "What if-"

"Nothing is going to go wrong," responded Ron wearily. They had been having this conversation for the past week. "Remember? This bloke's not there-" Ron jabbed his elbow at the black haired man standing by his side, "-so what could possibly go wrong?"

Harry Potter turned and smirked at his friends. "Don't underestimate our little ones, but I think I've caused enough problems to last Hogwarts a lifetime."

The train began to pull away, and Hermione let out a small yelp. Held firmly in place by her husband, she made do with waving at her daughter until the train was out of sight. Then she straightened, sniffed again, and forced an optimistic smile on her face. Rose was a bright girl. She'd get through just fine.

On the train, Rose Weasley deposited her bags into one of the empty compartments. Her cousin Albus Potter sat and immediately bore his eyes out the window. He obviously needed a moment to collect himself.

Rose poked her head out of her compartment. Students were roaming between cars, greeting friends and finding seats. She slid in among the students and let the bustling bodies move her along the train. Snips of conversation flew past her as she went.

"I can't _believe_ Professor Randor gave us so much homework over break. Did you finish?"

"No, I-"

"Has anyone seen my wand? I think I-"

"-and then there was this explosion, and the door just flew-"

Rose turned through an open compartment door and was pulled down onto the long seat next to a grinning girl with strawberry-blonde hair. The girl hugged Rose with one arm and used the other to grab a Bertie Bott's Every-Flavored Bean from the boy sitting across from her.

"This one's grass," she said confidently before popping it in her mouth. Dominique Weasley had a talent for knowing the flavor of the mystery beans before tasting them. And, once again, she was correct.

Grinning, Dominique took another from her brother and offered it to Rose. "It's safe, just cherry," she reassured her cousin.

"Thanks," said Rose, nibbling the end gingerly. Dominique was telling the truth: cherry. She meant to ask where James was, but Louis Weasley began pelting Dominique with candy before she got the chance.

"Going at it already?" asked a girl from the door. She had light brown skin and dark, curly hair held back by multiple ties – Roxanne, one of Rose's many cousins. "I swear, you'd think Fleur would've taught you two more manners."

Fleur was Louis and Dominique's mother. Brought up in France, she had married Bill Weasley and bore him three children.

"Victoire got all of the manners," laughed Dominique, naming her elder sister. "And, as she's off crying for Ted somewhere, you're all stuck with me and Louis."

Ted Lupin had finished his seven years at Hogwarts, but Victoire was beginning her final year. They were obnoxiously in love and seemed eager to remind their family of that fact whenever they saw each other.

"I don't blame her," said a third-year girl as she squeezed into the already full compartment. "Good morning, Roxanne. Louis, stop harassing your sister. Dominique, don't provoke him!"

"And Lucy has arrived," muttered Louis, shooting a glare at the newcomer before putting down his sugary ammunition. "I heard Uncle Percy lecturing students on the way onto the train."

"Again," added Dominique.

Rose could feel a bicker brewing. She ducked out from under Dominique's arm and grabbed a handful of Chocolate Frogs as she squeezed past Roxanne. The train's corridors had cleared as everyone found their seats. The compartment she had left her bags in had one new occupant: Albus' elder brother, James.

"They're at it already, aren't they?" James guessed as Rose closed the compartment door. He took a Chocolate Frog from her, and then began tossing it from hand to hand. "I knew they'd start as soon as the train was moving. Victoire wasn't even there to shut them all up, was she? Off crying about Ted, no doubt."

"She was probably in the Prefect's compartment with Molly," said Rose, sitting and giving her yearmate a frog. Albus accepted it with a silent nod of thanks. He was the most nervous about starting his first year at Hogwarts.

Molly Weasley was Percy's eldest daughter, and his legacy. She was currently Head Girl of Hogwarts, and stayed with the prefects as an example of what they should strive to be. Victoire, her closest friend, would most likely be with her at a time like this.

"Did you see Desmonda Flint?" asked James, changing the subject. "I've seen her father and, trust me, those two are nearly identical! I think she got uglier over the summer."

Rose relaxed as James continued to list the people he had already seen on the train. "The twins made it," he mentioned, "though Lorcan managed to turn his hair blue. McGonagall's going to fly off the handle!"

Minerva McGonagall was Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She had her hands full when it came to Lorcan Scamander. His mother, Luna Lovegood, had been a quiet, if quirky, girl, but her son was a bit noisier.

Lorcan seemed to have taken his twin's share of mischief; Lysander Scamander was quieter and more studious than his eccentric counterpart. Last year, Lorcan had managed to break most of the windows on the fourth floor with one of his many experiments.

"He'll fix it up by tomorrow," Rose pointed out. "Remember the time they both did their hair in their house colors?"

"They had each _other's_ house colors," corrected James. "Confused most of the professors, and when they had it figured out, the boys switched!"

Though Lorcan was in his mother's house, Ravenclaw, Lysander had been sorted into Gryffindor. They thought it was the most marvelous of all jokes, and often switched places to see if anyone would notice. The students did, but most of the professors were clueless.

At that moment, a blue head popped into the compartment. "Any room for us?" asked Lorcan.

"Come on in," said James, and Lorcan entered, throwing himself to sit cross legged on the floor. Lysander followed in a slightly less conspicuous fashion, smiling at Rose and Albus before sitting next to James.

"Mum's thrilled about the hair," said Lorcan, rifling through his pockets and pulling out what looked to be thin silver straws. "She and Dad helped me with the herbs."

"It washes right out," added Lysander, grabbing a straw. "I was planning to do mine as well, but I lost track of time this morning and didn't get a chance."

"What do those do?" asked Rose as Lysander took the straw and placed it between his pursed lips. She soon had an answer—Lysander inhaled sharply, and one of the Chocolate Frogs flew up and stuck to the end of the straw.

"They're Finders," explained Lysander as he unwrapped his treat. Lorcan inhaled and grabbed the Frog that flew to him before it even touched the straw. "They're what I was finishing up today. They're not much more than little charmed tubes, really."

"Do they only work with chocolate?" asked James, leaning forward to get a closer look at Lorcan's.

The twins glanced at each other, and then shrugged in unison. "That's all I charmed them for," said Lysander, beginning to unwrap his frog. "I suppose they could find other things."

Albus smiled to himself, running his fingers along the edge of his Wizard's Card. "Which one did you get?" asked James, leaning forward.

Albus pulled it back, shoving it in his pocket. "No one," he said quickly. "Tell me about the Sorting, again?"

This set James off on one of his favorite stories. The way he told it, his Sorting was the most important event of the century. It involved mystery and adventure, and (depending on when he was telling it) possibly even a dragon.

"But no one got hurt," he concluded, stretching lazily. "Victoire was crying, though, and McGonagall was _furious_."

"Hmm..." Lysander tilted his head. "I don't remember all of that. Hmmm..."

"I suppose a Jellywink got in your ear," said Lorcan gravely, to which Lysander nodded thoughtfully. Rose and James exchanged a grin. As Rose's father said whenever the Scamander twins mentioned Jellywink-or Flubbergans, or Potiliks-some things never change.

The train ride was a calm one. Albus and Rose fell asleep while James and Lysander played Wizard's Chess. Lorcan sat on the floor, sketching what appeared to be a large, wooden door.

Rose woke when the sun was beginning to set. She had hardly slept the night before. She and Albus had sat outside, staring up at the stars in silence. Albus had been too nervous to go to sleep, but, for Rose, it was the pent-up excitement.

The group changed into their school robes. Besides Rose, they had all preferred to travel in Muggle clothing. She leaned against the door and smoothed out her collar until she was certain it would stay flat. No one wanted to bother Albus, who looked like he was going to be ill. James sat next to his younger brother in silent support as Rose continued in his place in the chess game with Lysander, who was leagues ahead of her when it came to skill. Lorcan finally took his glasses off and examined his completed drawing.

"This is interesting," he said, turning it upside down. "I wonder where it leads to..."

"Look for it in the school," said Rose absently. "Pawn to E three. Have you ever seen it before?"

Lorcan shook his head, flipping the door over again. "No, but I will," he said confidently.

Rose took Albus by the arm as the train began to slow. "Come on, you," she said. "Time to go see Hagrid."

This cheered him up a bit. He stood up straight and kept his head up as they climbed off the train. The twins waved goodbye as they headed for the carriages that would bring the older students to the castle. James followed them, climbing in next to Lysander and another Gryffindor in their year, Callum Reese.

"Firs' years this way!" a voice boomed. "Come on, now, follow me! Inter the boats with yeh!"

Rose grinned up at the huge man before them. Hagrid was groundskeeper at Hogwarts, and every year, he took the first years across the lake in boats. "Good to see you, Hagrid!" she called up.

"Rosie!" he exclaimed. "An' if it isn't my Albus, why—no, yeh don' go with _them_!" he yelled, suddenly noticing a first year student climbing into a carriage. "Git down from there!"

Rose waved goodbye as Hagrid went to redirect the confused first year. She and Albus climbed into one of the small boats that floated on the dark water of the lake. "We're almost there," Rose breathed, not sure if she was comforting Albus or herself. "Almost there."

Albus looked over his shoulder at the carriages nervously. "They are _too_ invisible," he muttered, seeing no sign of the thestrals James had taunted him about earlier. "I knew it."

A familiar face joined their boat. "Hello," he squeaked. "I- are these things sturdy?"

"They're _fine,_ Briar," said Rose. "They've carried centuries of students. I don't think they'll break now."

"Oh." Briar Longbottom nudged his glasses up his slightly bent nose. "Well, as long as you say so- oh!"

He emitted a small squeak of surprise when the boat jerked into motion. Rose let her eyes wander-from the ripples running across the dark water to the shimmering orbs atop the spires of the castle. Outlines of the landscape were barely visible, lit by the faint glow of the moon. A shadowed figure moved over the swell of one hill, then disappeared into the darkness.

The students climbed out of the boats, staring up in wonder. Many of them had never seen the castle before, and those who had were amazed to see the small details that books like _Hogwarts, A History_ failed to recognize.

A low gasp went through the students, followed by a ripple of murmurs. The inside of Hogwarts was even grander than the façade. Briar stared up at the ceiling, which was barely visible beyond the edge of the torchlight. Albus tentatively tapped the arm of a suit of armor, jumping back in alarm when it twitched.

"They're ticklish," a passing man said. He looked to be a professor-dressed in plum robes trimmed with shimmering grey, and he had an air of relaxed authority. "Don't worry, though, they're friendly."

"Thank you, Professor Evariste!" another voice trilled. Rose craned her neck and spotted a squat man with a curling grey beard that hung nearly to the floor. He stood in front of the group and was clearing his throat noisily. "Attention, please. Attention, please, students! Come now!"

The hum of student voices died down as the first years focused on the small man before them. He cleared his throat once more. "Thank you, Professor Evariste, for stopping by to visit the incoming students."

The man who had spoken to Albus was busy straightening his robe, tugging the bottoms of the sleeves so they hung straight. "My pleasure," he said. "Was just on my way to the feast myself. Running a bit behind, I must say." Proving his point, he began to edge backwards towards the eastern doors.

"Run along, then," said the elderly man, as he would dismiss a student at the end of class. Professor Evariste offered the group a hurried wave before turning and heading for the feast, reminding Rose even more of a chastised student. The remaining man cleared his throat again and continued.

"I am Professor Flitwick, Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I would like to...to welcome you all to your first year at our academy, and extend the warmest wishes that you will have a...a productive year."

Professor Flitwick seemed to be distracted by something in the crowd. His eyes kept shifting to one spot, directly to the right of Rose. "We have a...a ceremony in store for you today. Now, there are four houses...houses..."

Some of the students were starting to look around-nervous, confused, even stifling laughter. Professor Flitwick took one last glance towards Rose's side before his focus floated above the center of the group.

"There are four houses in Hogwarts: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. The sorting process will assess your strengths and weaknesses, then place you in the house that will best suit your needs. In a moment, I will escort you into the Great Hall for the Sorting- there it is now, just to your right there- but until then, feel free to- to chat amongst yourselves."

The students broke out into quiet discussions, the professor's apparent inattention providing a safe topic of conversation for those who had arrived alone. Professor Flitwick disappeared from view as the first years began to reorder themselves, none of them wishing to be in the front when they entered the Hall. Rose turned to Albus, who was looking paler than usual.

"You'll be fine," she reassured him. "James will be right there, remember? It'll be over before you know it."

Professor Flitwick appeared beside the pair, teetering nervously on his short legs. "Excuse me," he breathed, his pale eyes flickering around before resting on Albus. "You wouldn't- You wouldn't happen to be- " He tugged the bottom of his beard, then adjusted his conservative black hat.

Albus's green eyes were wide with alarm. "I'm sorry, sir?" he said hesitantly.

"It's just- well- " Flitwick fumbled for the words, still looking at Albus. "I'm sorry, young man, you just reminded me of- you look extraordinarily like your father."

A blush rose on Albus's cheeks. "Thank you, sir," he said, not as uncomfortable as a he had been a moment earlier.

"Well, it's time to- I gather we should- " bumbled Professor Flitwick. "I'll just check and see if- the feast should be-" Without finishing the thought, he tottered away.

When Professor Flitwick finally called the new students to order, Rose gave Albus's hand a reassuring squeeze before falling into line. The first years passed through the double doors leading into the Great Hall, gaping at their magical surroundings. The enchanted ceiling projected a perfectly clear starry sky, and several first years stumbled into each other while tipping their heads back to take in the view.

The older students shifted at their tables, trying to get a better look at their prospective housemates. Some knelt on their benches; one boy even stood up by the Gryffindor table and began waving furiously. Albus grinned- it was Louis Weasley, one of his many cousins. Louis's sister Dominique yanked him down, catching a glare from Victoire, who was sitting at the head of the table.

In front of the Head Table stood a plain wooden stool holding up a tattered wizard's hat. The fabric was patched and part of the cloth above the brim was torn. The students stared at it apprehensively, their nervous murmurs dying down as the Headmistress stood.

Before she could speak, however, the hat opened its folds and began to sing.

_When Hogwarts first began, it was a_

_Time so dark and vacant._

_Magic had no study; it was_

_Only what one made it._

_Then along came Hogwarts' founders,_

_Scholars to the bone;_

_Said they, "We need an institute,_

_A school to call our own."_

_And thus were born the Hogwarts Four,_

_The founders ever-strong,_

_And though they strived to teach, they found_

_They could not get along._

_So I was born to end the feud,_

_And though their plan did fail,_

_Their school still stands, and in these walls,_

_The Sorting Hat prevails._

_This night I will divide you all,_

_For I've yet to be wrong,_

_So listen closely to my words_

_And heed the Sorting Song._

_I soon shall perch atop your head_

_And all I shall divide._

_Just know that I can see your skills;_

_I peek inside your mind!_

_I'll find a Ravenclaw with brains_

_That far surpass the rest;_

_The clear of head and sure of mind_

_That falter at no test;_

_A Gryffindor with heart of gold_

_Who knows his wrong from right;_

_Though trials and strife we all shall face_

_He'll keep the truth in sight;_

_A Slytherin who dreams of power,_

_Money and success;_

_The will and passion to succeed_

_Will push them past the rest;_

_A Hufflepuff, the surest friend,_

_The noble sort, and true;_

_If you are gentle, caring, loving,_

_Then Hufflepuff's for you._

_And though there are these different kinds,_

_These houses where you sit,_

_Keep in mind that that's not all,_

_Again, I'll mention it:_

_The founders put me here to split,_

_Divide and sever, yes,_

_But there is more than red or green_

_Or blue or yellowness._

_You are wizards, are you not?_

_And you are here to learn,_

_Not fight, or quarrel as you do,_

_And ev'ry year, return._

_For this year, things are different, for_

_There's been a change of plan,_

_But without any more from me,_

_It's time this year began!_

There was appreciative applause from around the room, but the students were also speculating amongst themselves. What did Sorting Hat mean by saying there had been a change of plan? But the Headmistress was still standing, and she only had to clap her hands twice to get the room's attention.

"Good evening, students," greeted Professor McGonagall. Her dark grey hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and her unnervingly cat-like eyes took in the whole room at once. "It is a pleasure to see all of you for another year at Hogwarts. We will begin with the Sorting Ceremony. If the first years could step up to the Sorting Hat when their name is called, we shall commence immediately."

Professor Flitwick stood next to the hat with a scroll of parchment. Unfurling it, he read the first name. "Aberna, Debora."

A girl stepped forward, tucking a lock of dark hair behind her ear before sitting on the stool. Flitwick placed the Sorting Hat on her head. The rip over the brim lifted and the fabric flapped together like a large pair of lips. Some of the first years jumped in surprise, while the older students laughed.

"RAVENCLAW!" the hat boomed, causing more students to jump. Debora slid off the stool, looking embarrassed but deeply relieved as the second table from the left began to cheer.

Flitwick continued with Baxton, Nocarn, who went straight to Slytherin. Rose grew uneasy as Berger, Kieron and Blackwell, Odessa followed suit. What if the Sorting Hat decided that she wasn't brave enough to be in Gryffindor? What if there was something in her that she hadn't found yet, something that made her a Slytherin?

She played out scenarios in her head until she heard "Longbottom, Briar," and saw Briar stumble forward. He clenched his eyes shut as Flitwick put the hat on his head. His father, sitting at the Head Table, looked equally nervous. It was only a moment, however, before-

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Briar sighed with relief as he joined the grinning Hufflepuffs. Neville Longbottom nodded, and the professor next to him clapped him on the shoulder.

"Malfoy, Scorpius."

Someone on the right side of the room snickered but was hurriedly hushed. A small, pale boy stared straight ahead as he walked to the stool. He closed his eyes as soon as the hat touched his head, sliding down over his white-blonde hair. Silence filled the hall as the students waited for the decision to come. Over half of the first years had yet to be sorted.

Finally, when the silence was just becoming uncomfortable, the Sorting Hat announced, "Slytherin!" But the declaration sounded a bit uncertain. Rose knew she was not the only one who noticed; students all over the room turned to their friends and began to whisper, and even the teachers glanced at each other with raised brows.

Scorpius slid off the stool and kept his head down as he walked to the hollering Slytherin table, set against the left wall. The students patted him off the back and slid over to make a spot for him.

At the head of the Slytherin table sat an older boy. He tilted his head and nudged one of his friends. Rose tried to catch the rest of their silent exchange, but "Marsh, Tia" had just been sorted into Gryffindor and the clapping distracted her.

When she looked back, the conversation was over. Both boys were watching the Sorting, and Scorpius was staring down at the table.

Rose then spotted a few friendly faces. She had seen Loren Nicosa on the train, and clapped when she was sorted into Gryffindor. Hansini Patil was a surprise to see-over the summer, the Weasleys had heard that the Patil twins were considering moving back to India after the death of Padma's husband. Naturally, Hansini and her older sister Disha would have gone with them. Rose waved after Hansini ("RAVENCLAW!") hopped off the stool with a shy smile.

After a few more, it was Albus's turn to be sorted. To his credit, Flitwick did not stumble over Albus's name, but his nose did turn an interesting shade of red. Albus took a quick breath before marching forward and setting himself on the stool, keeping his back rigidly straight.

Rose waited with crossed fingers. It was something her mother had taught her, and something her father hated. "What is it supposed to do?" Ron had often wondered, crossing and uncrossing his fingers, looking around for a visible effect. Hermione just shook her head and explained that it was a Muggle thing and just a wish for good luck.

Apparently, the Sorting Hat heard Rose's silent wish. "GRYFFINDOR!" it bellowed, and the entire Gryffindor table exploded in applause. Rose clapped as loudly as the rest of them, a wide grin spread across her face. A relieved Albus walked to the Gryffindor table and sat next to his visibly ecstatic brother.

There was only one more part to be nervous about. Rose waited anxiously as the sorting continued. The next three students were all put into Hufflepuff before she was called. There were a few murmurs, and a loud hoot from the Gryffindor table drew laughter from the entire room. Grinning, Rose sat on the stool and closed her eyes.

A voice in her ears made her flinch from surprise. _Another Weasley,_ the Sorting Hat said, and Rose could have sworn it sighed. _Let's see what we have here. You certainly have your mother's brains- she was a bright one- and both of your parents were good-hearted. You could excel in Ravenclaw, where intelligence is cherished above all else_.

_I was_- Rose began, but then stopped herself. She wanted to say that she was hoping to be in Gryffindor, with her friends and family, but she wasn't sure if she was allowed to make a comment at this point.

_Gryffindor?_ the Sorting Hat questioned. _A fair point. Your parents were fine Gryffindors- and you could do great things in the coming years- but I fear your surroundings might hinder... Well, as your lineage is superb, I suppose I will allow it._

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat roared into the room, but the applause fell on Rose's ears as a muffled, hollow sound. Her legs carried her to the Gryffindor table and into the embrace of her cousins as she replayed the conversation in her head.

The sorting drew to a close as the final two first years to be sorted joined the Gryffindor table. Rose relaxed into a group that contained Albus, James, and Lysander. George's daughter Roxanne was across from them, and nearby were both Dominique and Louis. Even Victoire came over and congratulated Rose and Albus on their sorting before returning to her group of friends at the head of the table.

McGonagall said something about making all relevant announcements after the feast, but no one was listening. The dishes had already filled themselves with an assortment of food both magical and Muggle in origin. Rose was surprised to find that a mouthful of what had appeared to be harmless mashed potatoes contained small rock candy bits that burst open when she bit down on them.

An array of desserts followed the main course, covering the table with an assortment of biscuits, puddings, and candies that Rose had never encountered before.

"Be careful with that one," the girl next to her advised, giving one of the bowls containing brightly coloured candies a wary glance. "My aunt told me once that when you bite into them, they shoot steam up your nose and out your ears."

"They do," said Rose, passing over the bowl and picking up a Pumpkin Pasty instead. "My cousin gave me one when I was seven. Mum wasn't pleased."

"I'm Tia Marsh," said the girl with a grin. "You're Rose Weasley, right?"

Roxanne had warned Rose that people at school would recognize her as soon as she arrived. "Don't let it bother you," she had advised. "Everyone will get used to you after a few days. It'll be worse for Albus. James, on the other hand, loves the attention."

Rose and Tia talked until the desserts disappeared from the table. The room quieted as McGonagall stood, her expression calling for absolute silence.

"Another year has begun at Hogwarts," she began, "a year in which we will all grow and learn in our magical abilities. I would like to extend the warmest greetings to our new first years, and advise our older students to remember the rules that our Filch so ardently enforces."

A grizzled man with oily grey hair grunted from the back of the room. Part of his face looked as if it had been seared off, then hastily reassembled. Rose thought back to her parents' stories of Argus Filch and shuddered. She would be avoiding him as much as possible.

McGonagall continued. "As you all know, this is the year in which the magical community will be celebrating the Triwizard Tournament. This event brings together three of the leading schools in magical learning in hopes to better our students and, thusly, better our schools."

Only a few students in the room expressed interest at the mention of the Tournament. It was scheduled to be hosted by Beauxbatons, and only the oldest students would make the journey to put their names into the Goblet of Fire, the enchanted cup that chose one champion from each school. Victoire had spent a large part of the summer expressing how ridiculous it was for anyone in their seventh year to go abroad instead of finishing their education. (This opinion was mainly shared among her cousins, as her mother was a former Triwizard contestant.)

"As the Sorting Hat announced, however," continued McGonagall, "there has been a slight change of plans." At this, muttering started up throughout the hall, curious and excited. "Beauxbatons, this year's host school, has encountered a bit of a dilemma. A herd of manticores took it upon themselves to migrate across the Beauxbatons grounds, and..." There was a twitch at the corner of her mouth that suggested a repressed smile. "Well, I have visited the school and it is sufficient to say that there is not much left to be _called_ 'grounds'.

"Taking such circumstances into consideration," she said over the noise of students who had already figured out where this announcement was leading, "I have the pleasure to announce that, by mutual agreement of all three involved schools and their affiliated Ministries, the Triwizard Tournament will be held at Hogwarts this year!"

Cheers rang up from all sides of the hall. Molly Weasley craned her head above the yelling students to find Victoire, who had begun to cry again. James clapped along with the rest, already conferring with his friends on what mischief they could create with this new circumstance. Lysander sighed, shaking his head, and returned to the small book he had been reading under the table. Glancing at Lorcan, sitting at Ravenclaw and obviously delighted by the prospect of disruption to classes, Rose wondered idly whether the Hat had got the twins' houses the wrong way around.

"Students!" cried McGonagall, calling the room to order once more. "Please, this is not to be taken lightly! Unfortunately, this means that certain activities must be sacrificed. There will be no Quidditch Cup this year-" The students groaned. "-but we will all have to move past that! The Quidditch pitch will remain open, so keep practicing for next year.

"You will find informative packets in your common rooms describing the risks and rewards of participating in the Tournament. Any questions should be addressed to your prefects or the Head Boy and Girl." Molly straightened in her seat, tilting her chin upin a way very reminiscent of Uncle Percy when he was feeling important. "However, it is now getting late, and as you all have classes in the morning, I suggest the prefects lead you to your chambers."

The candles dimmed, giving the room more of an evening ambiance. Rose found herself yawning as she got to her feet and followed Tia Marsh out of the Great Hall.

"Wait until my dad finds out," whispered Albus as he climbed the stairs next to his cousin. "And Teddy will be furious he missed it by a year!"

They arrived on the seventh floor and set their eyes on the Fat Lady for the first time. Their parents had told them about the large portrait that served as the protector of the Gryffindor Common Room.

"_Venatus Suscipio_," declared Victoire, and the grinning portrait swung open. As Rose climbed through the round hole, she heard the Fat Lady cry, "Welcome to Hogwarts!"

In the common room, the large fireplace was lit, but the exhausted students passed by the plush furnishings and split into two groups. Rose followed the girls up their staircase, stopping when she reached a landing labeled _First Years_. She pushed the door open to find three girls already inside. Tia Marsh also entered, plopping down on the bed next to Rose's.

"So here we are," she sighed. The girls did not start up a conversation; by mutual, unspoken consensus, they were too tired to be social. Rose settled into her bed, fingering a silver locket around her neck. It bore a letter _P_ for Prewett, which was her grandmother's maiden name. The elder Molly Weasley had found it while going through an old jewelry case over the summer.

"Fabian must have left it with his things," she had told Rose, naming one of the brothers she had lost in the first war against Voldemort. "He was left Mum's things to divide…. Ah, well, you may have it if you like. It is rather pretty, now, isn't it?"

Rose debated taking the heirloom necklace off to go to bed. She was overtaken by sleep before she reached a decision, and she faded off into dreams with one hand still wrapped around the locket.


	2. Lessons and Correspondances

Rose found that the castle was more difficult to navigate than she had expected. Getting to the Great Hall was easy enough when she followed the other students, but then she had to try and find her way back to the common room after receiving her schedule. She and Albus wandered around the staircases until they managed to find the seventh floor. Luckily, the password had not changed since the night before.

The classes themselves were something else to adjust to. First up was Herbology, taking advantage of Monday's good morning weather. Professor Longbottom met them all outside of greenhouse one with an excited grin and elbow-length gloves on. They spent the hour talking about the plans for the year, which included taking a trip into the Forbidden Forrest.

"Professor McGonagall granted us special permission to go in and harvest some rare fungi that are growing there," he explained, looking like a little boy who had been told Christmas was coming early. Rose wondered if he might take off and start bouncing like a bubble from his excitement, but none of the First Years could help sharing his enthusiasm.

Next up was History of Magic, which Rose thought to be more interesting than James had made it out to be. She took pages of notes while Albus stared at Professor Binns blankly. When Rose nudged him pointedly, he started taking notes, but after a few minutes, he was back to staring through the ghost teaching the class. His page soon filled with doodles of cauldrons and vials. It was obvious what class he was most nervous about.

When Potions came along, Albus walked through the door with his mouth set in a flat line. Rose rubbed her hands together as she sat next to Albus at a table. A cold gust of air swept around the room, and Rose shivered. She already disliked taking a class in the dungeon.

A large, squat man came through the door holding a fat textbook. His thick silver moustache nearly covered his plump lips, which were already puffed out in a slightly disappointed expression.

"Not up to par, not up to par at all!" he cried, his silver robes flying out behind him as he walked to the center of the classroom. "Your first time in my class, and already you are looking glum and grim. This is a classroom for learning the art of potions, _not_ for sitting around looking like you would rather be somewhere else. Or _sleeping_," he added, glaring at a droopy-eyed boy sitting near the edge of the circular setup. The boy jerked his eyes open, eliciting a stifled giggle from the other students.

"An improvement on before, even if only by a little." the professor allowed, with a cutting look. "Now, I am Professor Slughorn, and I will be in charge of your potions education for the next seven years. In my class, you will learn secrets of magic that other teachers might hesitate to teach you. You will learn what makes our society ebb and flow. The secrets of our land. Our people. Our world."

Rose opened her potions book to the page written on the blackboard as Slughorn continued. "Today, as a preliminary test of your abilities, we will be brewing a simple Sleeping Draught to assess your talents. The page number is on the board, and any ingredients you need are in the student supply cabinets. It should take you no longer than forty-five minutes."

Rose had already assessed the list of ingredients and was the first to make it to the supply cabinets. It was a pretty simple potion—she been making similar drafts with her mother since she was young. When Rose turned to return to her seat, Scorpius Malfoy was standing directly behind her. His abnormally light eyes met hers, and both students froze.

"Move along, now!" Slughorn cried from behind the gathering of first years. "We have potions to brew."

Rose looked away from the small, grey eyes and went back to her table. Albus had already set up the cauldron they would share and was reading through the textbook's instructions. Rose began to chop the daisy roots while Albus organized the ginger and mallowsweet.

The brewing potions filled the room with a faint, sweet-smelling aroma that was vaguely reminiscent of a summer day. Rose found herself getting drowsy as she leaned over the cauldron to check the potion's color. It was in the process of turning light purple from a nondescript grey. Rose tossed in the final handful of diced ginger before sitting back down next to Albus.

The rest of the class was having various degrees of success. Tia Marsh had partnered up with Liam O'Grady, a boy rooming with Albus. They were doing relatively well, but a bit of the potion had gotten on the book they were sharing and they couldn't read the last line. Across the room, Slytherins Kieron Berger and Crispin Orthos were still fumbling around with their ginger when Slughorn called the class to attention.

"Your time is up," he announced. "I will be coming around to examine your potions momentarily."

Rose straightened in her seat as Slughorn approached her table. The professor looked from her to Albus before emitting a small hmph and gazing into their cauldron. "Wonderful color you managed to get," he said approvingly. "It wouldn't have suffered for a few more minutes over the flame. Make sure you dice your ginger thoroughly before putting it into the brew. Overall, very nice job. Promising work." He offered them a grin before moving on.

Rose was less than pleased. She had been hoping for something better than a "promising work" on her first day with the Potions master. She had worked with her mother over the summer specifically on her potions—she wasn't expecting critique.

Albus nudged her. "Don't be like that," he urged her, knowing his cousin's thoughts as well as his own. "It's your first lesson."

Rose decided to concentrate harder on her other classes. Professor Flitwick, besides being the Deputy Headmaster, was also the Charms teacher. He stuttered over Albus's name but continued calling roll without much incidence. When Albus had to ask a question, however, he did it through Rose. He told her later that it was so that the professor wouldn't stumble over the answer.

Students said that ever since Professor McGonagall became Headmistress, Transfiguration class had gotten more boring by the year. Professor Randor was an elderly, frail-looking man who spent the first class talking about how he was the first wizard to ever transfigure a person into a phoenix.

"It was many years ago," he croaked, "and hopefully hasn't been done since. It was a terrible, terrible mistake." But he refused to elaborate on that point, instead moving on to a detailed summary of how the transfiguration happened.

"We've never gotten him to say much more about it," said James when Albus and Rose asked that night. "I've done a bit of my own research. It was over a hundred years ago—I know, right?" Albus's jaw had dropped. "He's ancient."

"Wizards have a longer life span than Muggles," reminded Lysander from behind a book. "Really, it's not that unusual."

James ignored his friend and continued his story. "So Randor wanted to know if it was possible to transfigure a person into a purely magical being, like a phoenix. So… he did!"

Rose rolled her eyes. Her cousin didn't understand the concept of researching something to gain more thorough information. "I just hope that means he knows what he's doing," she muttered. She had been looking forward to learning with Professor McGonagall, after all she had heard from her parents, but obviously as headmistress, the Professor had other things to do with her time.

The most interesting class came with Professor Evariste, whom they had met before their first meal at the castle. He was a friendly, personable man with neat golden hair and a colorful wardrobe that ranged from robes of deep grey to snowy white trimmed with turquoise. He drew the class in during his very first lesson.

"Now, Defence Against the Dark Arts is one of the most important classes you will take here at Hogwarts," he declared, leaning back against his desk, today resplendent in bright purple. "It may seem self-serving of me to say that, but it's true. Yes, you will learn more complicated incantations in other classes, and no, I will not be teaching you how to turn your classmates into squirrels." He grinned as the students murmured about their previous Transfiguration class. "Now, now, be kind to my colleagues.

"In this class, you will learn how to defend yourselves against attacks. Previous students of Hogwarts have often come back to explain to first years just how important it is that they take this class seriously and study as hard as you can. I, as your professor, am inclined to agree with them."

He went on to give them a basic outline of how his class would work. "I like to take a very hands-on approach to teaching. You cannot learn to defend yourself without practice. We have a sort of informal Dueling Club that meets once a week during our double lesson. Any students interested in practicing what we have learned are welcome to attend, but it is in no way mandatory."

This statement evoked a laugh from Lysander when it was related to him. "It's not mandatory, no, but there isn't a student in this school who misses it," he explained. "You learn theory during your regular lessons, but the doubles are spent practicing the spells on each other. It's very… interesting."

Rose eagerly looked forward to the first meeting of this club, but as it was the first week of lessons, they hadn't learned anything to practice yet. Instead, their double lesson on Friday morning was spent talking about what the students hoped to learn. They enjoyed talking to their professor, who seemed to actually listen to them, taking careful notes on their expectations.

Friday afternoon found Rose, Albus, and James down the hill behind the castle. They stood in front of a small wooden house near the edge of the Forbidden Forrest and jumped when the large door swung open. Rubeus Hagrid stood in the doorway, looming over the children with a hearty grin. His grizzled beard obstructed a large portion of his face, leaving his shining black eyes free to take the students in.

"Come in, come in!" he said, beaming and ushering them inside. The cabin had only one room. An expansive bed was set in the corner under an aged quilt, and a few feet away, a fireplace was burning hot. Across the room was an old dog basket that served as a memorial to Fang, Hagrid's bloodhound who had died a few years earlier. "Come on, you three, settle yerselves in. Don' mind the mess, now."

Rose sat on one of the handmade wooden chairs, arranging herself so that the chair didn't topple over (one of the legs was shorter than the rest). Albus and James sat with her, not touching the cake-like substance on the table before them. They had learned from their parents' stories.

"So Rosie an' Albus have finally come to Hogwarts," sighed Hagrid, a sentimental look on his large face. "Go on, eat up. I made it specially fer the lot of yeh."

Reluctantly, Albus picked up the heavy knife and began to cut into the mysterious brown lump that had been drizzled in a watery, off-white icing. Hagrid busied himself with boiling water as he asked about their first week.

"Everyone's assigning so much homework for the first week back!" exclaimed James. "I mean, Professor Randor expects us to be able to turn a marble into a beach ball. We're working on expansion this year."

"We're still doing basics," complained Rose. "We've spent every lesson so far on theory and how Transfiguration works. I _know_ this stuff already!"

"Yeh've got to be patient, Rosie," said Hagrid, grinning at her impatience. "Yeh've done all the book learnin', but yeh need to learn things the way yer teachers are goin' ter teach 'em."

"I'm looking forward to Professor Evariste's lessons," offered Albus. "The schedule with the double lessons sounds interesting."

Hagrid barked a friendly laugh. "Hazen? I'm not surprised he's got all've yeh with 'im already. He's a fair amazin' teacher, that man is."

James nodded enthusiastically. "Just _wait _'til you get to the first practical lesson with him! They can get pretty nasty—well, I had doubles with Slytherin for that, so no surprise there—but he has everything under control."

"We're doubled with Slytherin too," Rose told him.

James scowled, then looked to his brother. "If you have problems with any of them, just talk to me about it. I'll teach you what we're working on. You'll set them straight!"

Albus mumbled noncommittally and stabbed his cake. The topic shifted again, this time to the Triwizard Tournament.

"I can't believe it's comin' back here again," grumbled Hagrid. "Ev'ry five years, this bloody tournament takes place. Sure, there haven' bin any deaths since—well, yeh know—but it's still fair dangerous."

The tournament had returned to Hogwarts once since the time Rose's parents were in school. It was held the year after the Second Wizarding War, as it was called, or the Triumph over Voldemort. People had adjusted to saying his name more after his death—some older witches and wizards were still hesitant, but the new generation had been raised with the new philosophy, which was heavily endorsed by Albus and James' father: fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself. The tournament the year after was more of a celebration than a competition; the feasts were lavish and the champions were amiable.

"Victoire is furious," said James. "She thinks that it's going to botch up her seventh year. I think she should be relieved that Ted isn't here to enter himself."

"He would've, too," agreed Hagrid. Ted Lupin's seven years at Hogwarts had been nothing if not eventful. He had been determined to find himself, a path that led him to explore a vicious rebellious streak. Something like the Triwizard Tournament would have been just up his alley.

"Aren't you glad that Madame Maxime is coming to visit?" questioned Rose shrewdly, noticing the redness that had sprung up Hagrid's cheeks at mention of the tournament.

Hagrid had married the Beauxbatons headmistress a few years after the defeat of Voldemort in a quiet, private ceremony. They had agreed to stay with their respective schools, to which they were unbreakably loyal. Rose thought that Hagrid would be thrilled at the opportunity to see his distanced wife.

She was right. "Well, o'course there is—but I can' think about Olympe—I mean, Madame Maxime—an' that isn' none of yer business," he stuttered in his low, gruff voice. "Now hush and tell me 'bout who's enterin'."

Both first years looked to James, who had begun to think. "Obviously not Victoire," he began. "Molly's equally appalled. Opal Howell's pretty smart—she's in Ravenclaw, top of her year. Dunno much about her, though. Leif Edderson may try, but he's not too bright. Blew up one of the dungeons last year," he recalled with a vague grin. "_That_ was fun. Besides them, it'll probably come down to one of the seventh years. Stupid age line."

When they asked Victoire that night about what seventh years might enter their names, she pursed her lips. "Hopefully none of the Gryffindors," she sniffed, looking down her thin nose at them. Her pale gold hair was spun atop her head in a neat bun held in place by gleaming clips that Ted had given her for a going-away present. "Really, who would give up their last year to fool around in some… _competition_." She said the word as if it was dirty. "I was just about to write to Uncle Percy; we've been corresponding on the matter…"

Rose didn't know how Victoire had begun a 'correspondence' during her first week of school, but she had managed. Letters came in every morning with her owl Aimette, and she could be found at all hours in the common room with a quill in hand, scribing long letters to her family members and friends who had finished school. The longest were addressed to _Teddy_ in large, loopy letters.

"She thinks she's so mature," Dominique whispered one day as Victoire, sitting at the head of the table as usual, snatched a letter from Aimette and ripped it open, "but when it comes to love, she's as helpless as the rest of us." She blew a kiss to a boy sitting down the table, who made a show of catching it and putting it in his pocket.

The second week fared as well, if not better, than the first. The classes were getting more interesting—they had just begun simple locking and unlocking spells in Charms class. Rose enjoyed sitting up in her room with Tia Marsh and the other girls as they took turns locking and unlocking the door.

Albus had settled into Potions class, though Professor Slughorn sometimes made him jump. On the second Thursday at Hogwarts, however, he had nothing to worry about—Potions class had been cancelled for a flying lesson, something the first years talked about all week.

"I can't wait to get on a broom again," said Albus wistfully over breakfast Thursday morning. "I haven't flown since…"

"It's been two weeks," groaned Rose. She was not at all looking forward to flying lessons. "And I doubt that Madam Hooch will let you actually _fly_. From what I've heard, we just hover there for a few seconds."

She was secretly overjoyed that the Quidditch season had been cancelled. The entire Weasley clan had been raised on the back of a broom—they had an expansive field behind their house that stretched out in all directions. It connected them with the Potters, who had often simply flown over to meet them. Albus and James had acquired their parents' skill in the air: James took after his father as an aspiring Seeker, while Albus preferred to serve the team as a Chaser.

"We have enough players to form a professional Quidditch team," fantasized Ron often.

"We have enough to form two or three," retorted Ginny consistently.

Rose found herself spending many childhood afternoons with the Scamanders, who were not Quidditch aficionados. Luna was always thrilled to have her over, where they would spend the day experimenting in the kitchen or hunting for some new magical creature. If Rose was feeling especially down, Lysander would take her up to the twins' room and offer her a new book he had discovered.

"I know you don't fly," acknowledged Albus, "but this is going to be fun!"

Rose ignored Albus as he began listing exactly _how_ it would be fun, choosing instead to contemplate ways she could ask to sit out. This took her up until they stepped foot outside. She might have been imagining it, but Rose could have sworn that an ominous chilled breeze blew past the group of first years emerging from the castle.

Madam Hooch stood in the center of the Quidditch pitch, surrounding by twenty broomsticks. She waited for all of the students to arrive before beginning. "Good morning, first years," she barked, her yellow eyes flashing around to touch all members of the group. "My name is Madam Hooch, and I am in charge of teaching you the basics of the broomstick. Though the season has been cancelled, it is no use to put off your education until next year. If you would all stand next to a broom, we shall begin."

The lesson was both tedious and terrifying. Rose held her breath every time she pushed off the ground, though she remained as close to the grass as possible. She watched as other Gryffindors flitted about. Madam Hooch had given them the limitation of no more than ten feet up and the warning that if there was any nonsense, none of them would so much as look at a broom for the rest of the year.

Albus flew with the others, a wide grin spread across his face. Loren Nicosa was by his side, her blonde hair flying out wildly in the wind. Slytherin girls that Rose didn't know stayed mainly to themselves as the Gryffindors fanned out, covering most of the pitch. One standout was Scorpius Malfoy. He, too, stayed near the ground, his toes brushing against the grass as his yearmates flew overhead. One boy, who Rose vaguely recognized from Potions class as Crispin Orthos, called for Scorpius to join him. Scorpius shook his head and waved his friend on without him.

At the end of the hour, Albus was pink-cheeked and panting. "That was—the best—those brooms—" he gasped, trotting to keep up with Rose's quick steps. She was in a hurry to get away from the pitch. "So glad they replaced them. You should have flown around more!"

Under the guidance of Quidditch-lover Professor McGonagall, Hogwarts had begun to purchase new school-owned brooms every few years. They leveled out the playing field for Quidditch players who couldn't afford to buy their own broom to bring to school.

For the next few weeks, Rose made the trek out to the Quidditch pitch every night to watch Albus fly. He stuck near the ground as the various teams practiced—James was moved up from reserve on the Gryffindor team to Seeker when Gary Ericcson got a bad case of Dragonskin Fever and had to return home for a month.

"They couldn't afford to lose a month of practice," gloated James for the twelfth time over breakfast. "Pearl Brennan is the temporary captain until Gary gets back. She doesn't know what'll happen next year, but for now, I'm in!"

"I don't understand," said Rose. "The season is _cancelled_, James. What's the use of practicing now?"

He gave an exasperated sigh. "They don't want to not practice for a year," he explained. "And since they can't very well practice without a Seeker, they moved me up! Gary's a sixth year, so if they don't keep me on for next year, I'm definitely in the year after that."

Rose still thought it was silly to practice for games that wouldn't happen, but she still went out to watch her cousins fly. Occasionally, Tia Marsh would accompany her outside and they would study together. Rose had learned to bottle bright red flames, which they used to illuminate their textbooks and scrolls. On other nights, she would simply sit and watch the teams fly in the moonlight.

Time raced by, and before Rose knew it, autumn had arrived in earnest. The leaves were beginning to change color, and most of her classes had begun to get interesting—and more difficult.

The most enjoyable was always Defence Against the Dark Arts. She brought up the tournament during class one day—Evariste grinned as she tentatively put forth the subject.

"Well, I suppose we can touch on the subject," he mused. "Alright. The tournament originated hundreds of years ago**, **but there was a long period of time where it did not take place. It was reinstated in 1994 and took place here at Hogwarts.

"Now, many of you have heard the story of what happened that year. We were in the period of Voldemort's return—that tournament was the one that actually served as a device to bring him back. In the years following the Second Wizarding War, or Fall of Darkness, it was unclear as to whether or not the Triwizard Tournament would ever continue."

"But it obviously _did_," pointed out Odessa Blackwell, a Slytherin girl with an abnormally sharp chin.

Evariste nodded. "Indeed, it did. New safety measures were added, and the next tournament was an overwhelming success. The worst injury sustained was by Vikenti Ivanov, head of Durmstrang Institute, who fell into a Spike Bush while inspecting one of the courses."

The class laughed. "There have been no fatalities since," continued Evariste, "and we are all looking forward to another chance at the Cup."

"What about the judges?" asked Tia Marsh. "I heard that they just pick random people now, to keep it unbiased."

Rose frowned; how could an assortment of random witches and wizards fairly judge the Tournament? But Evariste shook his head. "Not exactly. Each school's head gets to serve as a judge. Since it is being held at Hogwarts, our Minister of Magic will attend, though his scores don't count. It's more of a polite gesture to invite the host country's Minister—I believe it was insisted upon by Beauxbatons a few seasons ago."

"Kingsley must be thrilled," murmured Albus. They knew him well; a friend of Albus' father, Kingsley Shacklebolt had been given the position temporarily, only to find that he was well-suited to the job and loved it. He would much rather be at his office doing paperwork or preparing for the upcoming Alliance of Goblins Convention than sitting at a tournament where his scores would not be counted.

Evariste continued. "Then there are three judges selected by a certain theme. The previous Tournament invited three renowned Herbologists to the panel—not the most lively bunch, I must admit. When I was in school—" He paused, waiting for the murmurs to dissipate. "Yes, I was in school not too long ago. The Tournament was held at Durmstrang during my seventh year, and our three 'guest judges,' if you will, were all falsely convicted men who had been sent to—and later released from—Azkaban. Yes, it was quite the controversial year."

Rose could only imagine what people must have said. Azkaban had been the Wizarding world's most notorious prison. It had been disbanded following the war—there hadn't been much to disband, seeing how most of the building had been destroyed and the prisoners had escaped—but the name still struck a chord of fear within witches and wizards.

"I wonder who the judges'll be this year," said Rose to Albus as they packed their books up at the end of the class.

"Imagine it's that bloke from the Chudley Cannons!" said Albus with excitement. Rose rolled her eyes. After it was evident that his daughter had no interest in Quidditch, Ron Weasley had started recommending his favorite team to Albus and James. To his surprise—and the disdain of both his wife and sister—Albus had begun to follow the Cannons with a fervor to rival Ron's own.

Albus began to list other possible judges from the Quidditch world—"Or maybe that old commentator, you know, the one who disappeared for three years!"—and Rose did her best to concentrate, but there was still a certain level of concentration needed to get from one class to the next. Thankfully, it was time for tea. Getting to the Great Hall was always easiest, as it was the main gathering point of all the students.

The only class remaining that day was Transfiguration, which Rose was surprised to realise she disliked. Before coming to Hogwarts, she had looked forward to the class almost as much as Defense Against the Dark Arts. But after meeting Professor Randor and sitting through a dozen of his lessons, the class was now a source of dread.

"D'ya think we'll pick up from last time?" asked Albus hopefully. At the end of the last lesson, the students had managed to start the professor on a tale of his studies, which included his experiences on the Council of Shapeshifters in Milan.

"I was in charge of presiding over the cases of shapeshifters who could not return to their original forms," he drawled in his dry voice. "We had some… some quite interesting… ehrm, cases."

When he spoke, Randor gave off the impression that he kept forgetting what he was talking about. Today, the students entered the classroom eagerly, but their excitement was for nothing. Within three minutes, half of the class was nodding off as Randor went off on a tangent about how one would go about teaching a spell to a foreign witch or wizard.

"It's not that difficult!" ranted Rose at the end of the lesson. Albus stayed by her side, letting her express her frustration as they stepped onto a moving staircase. "I mean, you just point at something and say the incantation." She took her wand out of her pocket to demonstrate. "If you point your wand at something and say _Alohomora_, it will—"

A door across from them flew open with a bang. Rose looked at her wand, amazed—the spell wasn't supposed to open the door, only unlock it—but then it became evident that she was not the source of the action. Lorcan Scamander popped out of the open door and immediately hopped on another moving set of stairs.

"I think the stairs are anxious," said Lorcan as he half jumped, half fellfrom his stair to Rose and Albus' as they passed. "They normally don't move around nearly this much. Have you two seen Lysander?"

"No," said Rose, "and did you say that you think the stairs are…anxious?"

"Suppose so," shrugged Lorcan.

"But—they're stairs. They can't—they don't _feel_ anything!" protested Rose.

Lorcan's face was a picture of befuddlement. "Why not?" Not waiting for a response, he continued. "I was working on a drawing before. Wanna see?"

Albus unfolded the parchment square Lorcan gave him. "It's the same door," he said. It was, indeed, the same door that Lorcan had sketched on the Hogwarts Express.

But Lorcan said, "Nope." When Albus looked ready to argue, he elaborated. "See? This door has a lock." He pointed out the small change to the drawing. "You know what that means, right?"

Rose bit her lip, unsure of if she should be encouraging where this was leading. "It's time to go hunting for a key?" she guessed, only half-hoping she'd be wrong.

But Lorcan grinned. "It's time to go hunting for a key."


	3. Three Champions

As it happened,there was no time to hunt for the key to unlock Lorcan's mystery door. The Tournament was rapidly approaching, and when McGonagall stood one day before breakfast, her announcement came as a surprise to no one.

"I would like to briefly address the matter of the arrival of our foreign visitors tomorrow afternoon." By the students' reactions, no one had forgotten about the incoming Triwizard contestants. "All of your classes have been cancelled for you to prepare for the evening. I expect this castle to be glistening from top to bottom by the time the schools arrive."

The Headmistress was serious when she said that she wanted the castle to shine. The students received assignments from the prefects as to where they should report to tidy up the grounds. First and second year Gryffindors were sent out to help Hagrid prepare his hut and the surrounding grounds for Beauxbatons' giant horses, called Abraxans.

Rose and Albus scrubbed out the large water trough in front of Hagrid's hut while James and Lysander helped inside. Their work was finished early, leaving them with plenty of time to go back and relax in their common room. James and Lysander played Wizard's Chess while Rose opened up her Transfiguration book.

"I wanted to figure this out before class on Wednesday," she murmured to herself, following the words with her fingers. They had no classes on Halloween, which fell on a Tuesday, in lieu of the Triwizard Tournament. "I should have gotten this during class..."

Albus looked on as Rose tried to Transfigure a marble so that it would lay flat on the table. Professor Randor had decided that they should begin with abstract Transfigurations after seeing how the students failed at turning a thimble into a miniature tea kettle. Now they were working on re-forming objects, mainly altering their shape, like Rose was attempting to do.

The other Gryffindors slowly dribbled back into the common room. The third years were laughing uproariously as they slid through the hole. Louis Weasley emerged at the end of their group, dripping wet from head to foot.

"You're lucky Victoire isn't here to see you looking like that!" his middle sister told him with feigned sternness, unable to hold back a laugh. "What'd you do?"

He grinned broadly and exchanged a mischievous look with his friends. "Giant squid," was all he said, and the other boys nodded in agreement. Dominique rolled her eyes and amused the room by using her wand to siphon the water off her brother from a few feet away.

Rose got ready with Tia and the other girls in their room: Loren Nicosa, Mary Deverill, and Kara Welsh. They all filed downstairs with the rest of the students, who had organised themselves in a sort of half-circle near the lake.

"Everybody, please back away from the lake," echoed McGonagall's amplified voice. The house heads moved their students; Professor Evariste waved the Gryffindors back while glancing over his shoulder every few seconds. The other heads organized their students with varying degrees of effectiveness; Slughorn was quickly losing his jolly humor with the immovable Slytherins, while the Ravenclaws filed in neatly behind Flitwick.

A noise. An odd silence fell over the group, then the whispers began.

"I think I heard—"

"Wait, am I seeing—"

"Liam, look! It's—"

The Triwizard schools were arriving.

First they came from the sky. Oversized golden horses with gleaming white manes and tails descended, bearing puffs of blue on their backs. The splotches of color soon turned into students, clad in powder blue robes and bearing two wands each. The wands were crossed and shot out glistening gold stars that scattered across the freshly trimmed grass.

After the Beauxbatons students came their Headmistress. Four of the oversized Abraxan flew down in a square formation. Between them were stretched thick golden ropes that supported an ornate throne of what appeared to be twisted cords of gold. The woman on the oversize chair, however, was more shocking than the seat itself.

Rose knew that Madame Maxime was half-giant, like Hagrid, but she had been accustomed to Hagrid since she was little. This woman was his match in size, with rich, olive-toned skin and shining black hair tied in a knot on the back of her head. Her large, dark eyes took in the students below her, who were sliding off their large mounts.

"Eet is so good to return to 'Ogwarts," sighed Madame Maxime as she rose from her seat. "Minerva, I am so grateful for you 'aving us 'ere."

Her students looked less grateful. They stood behind her in two neat lines—there were an even dozen of them, Rose counted—and began rubbing their hands together. Their robes fluttered in the light breeze, and it was apparent that the fabric was not very thick.

"They're dressed for summer," critiqued Albus, looking at the silk robes. "They didn't even bring sensible gloves!" Their gloves, too, were made of a fine silk.

Madame Maxime led her group to the side as she continued talking to McGonagall. It seemed generally acceptable to begin conversations; James tapped Rose and Albus on the shoulders, wondering aloud how the Durmstrang delegation would arrive.

"Dad said they arrived in the lake when he was here," he put forward, "but he also said that Beauxbatons came in a flying carriage."

"I guess they don't want to do the same thing twice," said Rose, wondering how Hogwarts arrived at the other schools for the tournament.

A hush fell over the crowd, and all attention went to the lake. The dark water had begun to bubble, and Rose wondered if Durmstrang was going to repeat their appearance after all. But water began to spout from the lake in pillars reaching twenty, thirty feet in the air. The fountains broadened, then began to fall away in thin streams. These streams revealed students clad in blood-red robes.

"They're from up north," recounted Rose to Albus, unable to keep back the knowledge no matter how much she was awed. He was staring at the delegation, his bright green eyes wide. "That's why they're covered in furs. They need to stay warm."

The lake's surface smoothed over as the students walked across the water onto the ground. Remarkably, they were completely dry, even though the water was still settling and spraying up around their feet. The last to appear from the lake was a middle-aged man with dark brown hair that was just beginning to go grey. A thick beard obscured part of his face. Small eyes scanned the scene as their owner stepped onto the grass by his students.

"Minerva," he said in a low, rich voice. "It is an honor and a pleasure to make your acquaintance once more."

The Hogwarts students exchanged opinions on the new arrivals as the Durmstrang head greeted McGonagall. "That must be Vikenti Ivanov," murmured Rose, tapping Albus' arm. "I tried looking him up after Evariste mentioned him, but there's not much information out there about Durmstrang."

McGonagall led the two foreign schools into the castle, with the Hogwarts students trailing behind. The Beauxbatons students still held their crossed golden wands, which occasionally shot out a handful of stars. They looked around haughtily, as if inspecting something beneath them.

"Their magic is impressive," allowed James, stooping down to snatch up one of the stars, "but they're a bit full of themselves, aren't they?" As he spoke, the blue-clad students lifted their brows at the Great Hall, and not in an impressed way. "So we've got the prisses, then we have the Durmstrangs over there."

"They don't look too bad," offered Albus, watching the Durmstrang students remove their heavy layers. They, at least, seemed to be more appreciative of Hogwarts; some students gaped openly at the enchanted ceiling, which displayed a beautiful sunset.

"They've _evil_," insisted James. "Durmstrang encourages the Dark Arts—they _teach_ it." He glared at the foreigners suspiciously, as if he expected them to suddenly start shooting off curses.

Rose noticed one boy who was clearly younger than the rest. He seemed about James' ago, if not a bit younger. He looked around the room, eyes wide, as another student led his to the Slytherin table. After making sure the younger boy was settled in, the elder student exchanged a few words with Ivanov and exited the Hall.

"Going to case out the place, no doubt," grumbled James, noticing the older boy leave. "I'll be keeping an eye on _that_ one…"

McGonagall rose, and the room quieted. Some of the Beauxbatons students glanced around the room from their spots at the Ravenclaw table, obviously surprised, but Rose could not tell at what.

"I would like to extend the warmest welcome to our foreign students," she began. "The Triwizard Tournament is an incredible event that brings together the three most affluent magical educators in Europe. It is my dearest and most sincere hope that you will all make lifelong friends here—or at least, in the spirit of the Tournament, refrain from making any enemies.

"The champions will be selected tomorrow night, but more on that matter later. For now, tuck into the welcoming feast!"

She began to say something more, but the golden platters had filled with food and conversations immediately began.

"I can't wait until I'm a seventh year," said James, filling his plate with pork roast. "Since they moved it to Hogwarts this year, d'ya reckon it'll go back to Beauxbatons next?"

"I guess," said Rose. "Albus, you'll be seventeen at that point, right?"

Albus' eyes widened, knowing where his cousin was headed with her line of inquiry. "No. No way. Not me."

"So you'll chase a Snitch but not a dragon?" teased James. "Dad did both, and he's fine."

"Barely."

"No need to be so grim," said Lysander. Rose blinked in surprise—actually, it was Lorcan. She searched the Ravenclaw table and saw Lysander sitting in his twin's usual spot, eating sautéed asparagus with one hand and flipping the page of a book with the other.

"Didn't feel like spending time with the Beauxbatons delegation?" guessed Rose**, **surprised. She couldn't see Lorcan sharing James' hasty opinion of them—at least, not based off of a moment's impression.

Lorcan glanced over his shoulder. "Oh, them? Nah. Just thought I'd say hi."

Albus laughed and James shook his head, though Rose noticed that his gaze kept returning to the Ravenclaw table. The Beauxbatons students picked through the food, though it was nearly impossible to dislike a Hogwarts feast.

When the desserts appeared, Rose saw the small Durmstrang boy look around nervously, then slide away from the Slytherin table. No one noticed the young boy exit the hall, pushing the large doors open only enough to allow himself to slip through.

Rose glanced around her; James and Albus had begun an animated conversation about the International Quidditch League; Lorcan was inspecting a platter of plain crepes with confusion; Tia Marsh was digging through her bag while arguing with Liam O'Grady.

"I'll be right back," said Rose, hoping none of them would notice.

"No you won't," said Lorcan, not looking up from the crepes. "And they're changing your password, so get back early."

Rose filed that away in her brain as she left the table. Lorcan had a tendency to be correct—she had learned that at a very young age. Everyone was too focused on the feat to notice one first year slip away.

She had no plan on how to follow the Durmstrang boy, or even a reason why.

There was a high-pitched grating sound outside, followed by a heavy thud. Rose slipped through the main doors to see an immense ship settling into port on one side of the lake. Further along the grounds, down the gentle hill, rested a powder-blue carriage larger than the average house.

Rose supposed the foreign students had to stay somewhere, new entrance or no. In the light shed by the lanterns outside of the ship, she saw a small figure scurry into the shadows and down the hill towards Hagrid's cabin. Without a second thought, Rose followed.

The fire that burned unattended in Hagrid's hut illuminated the small Durmstrang boy. The light flickered through the windows, putting the boy's face into heavy relief.

A twig snapped as Rose drew near. The boy spun, wand already out. Rose pulled hers from her robe pocket, trying to remember the spells they had learned so far in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Her mind drew a blank..

The boy looked Rose over and slowly lowered his wand. After an indecisive moment, Rose did the same.

"I must apologise," said the boy, his English touched with a moderate accent. "Ve're not supposed… Professor Ivanoff… I thought you vere someone else," he finally said.

Rose was now close enough to see what the boy had been attracted to by Hagrid's hut. The large winged horses were a few feet away, their red eyes flashing in the low light. In the hand that Rose had previously thought empty, the boy held a large red apple.

"It's fine," she said dismissively. "They're beautiful, aren't they?"

The boy turned back to the oversized palominos eagerly. "Ve don't have them at home," he said, holding the apple out to one of them. "Ve have Granians, but they are not at all friendly." An Abraxan sniffed at the apple, then turned away with a derisive snort.

Rose struck her wand in her robe and held out a hand. "I'm Rose Weasley," she said.

The boy stuck both apple and wand into a concealed pocket in his robes. "Dmitri Romolov," he said, shaking her hand.

"You seem a bit young to be entering yourself in the Tournament," Rose had to point out. "Aren't you concerned about the Age Line?"

"I do not intend entry," explained Dmitri. "My brother is. Professor Ivanoff vants him as our champion. He gets to do vhatever he vants."

"And he wanted you to come?" guessed Rose, and Dmitri nodded. "You don't seem too excited about that."

"I am not vanting him to compete," said Dmitri glumly. "It is too much of the danger."

"Oh, it isn't all that dangerous anymore!" exclaimed Rose. "The Age Line makes it so much better, and McGonagall is so careful with everything…" She stopped, seeing that her words did nothing to comfort the boy. "So, was that your brother who left the Hall before?"

"Rafael does not do the travel well," said Dmitri. "He vas ill on the way here. I tell him, go rest on ship. I know Professor Ivanoff vill be angry if he does not get vell."

Rose resisted the urge to ask a thousand questions about Durmstrang's headmaster, about whom she had been able to learn so little. Instead, she said, "Tell me about the Granians?"

Dmitri launched into a full description of the nastier breed of winged horses. "Steel grey," he explained, "and looking like storm clouds. They have the sharp teeth, for eating meat, and vings are made dark, metal feathers."

Their conversation only drew to a close when a throng of students exited the castle. "The feast must be over," said Rose, only mildly disappointed that she had missed the end. "Where are all of you going to sleep?"

"On the ship," replied Dmitri. "I must go or they vill be missing me."

They agreed to see each other at breakfast the next day, then Dmitri slid away to rejoin his school. Rose waited until the Beauxbatons delegation had entered their carriage, then crept back to the castle.

She slid in behind a group of Gryffindors climbing up to the seventh floor. It wasn't until she reached the common room that Rose realized that Albus and James—alright, at least Albus—must have been worried about her.

"Where were you?" hissed Albus as she slid through the portrait hole. "I had to tell Victoire that you had gone to bed early—she wanted to know where you were."

"I'm surprised she even noticed I was gone," commented Rose before recounting a brief summary of what had occurred. "I told him to come find us during breakfast."

"I can just hear James now," grumbled Albus. "_What were you thinking? Don't you know all Durmstrangs are evil?_

Rose thought this over as she prepared for bed. Really, James had no foundation for making such an accusation. Durmstrang was known for producing a Darker standard of wizard than Hogwarts—that much was true, but not reason enough to say that all students who enrolled in the institute were Dark.

She finally dismissed the concept as closed-minded. She, for one, was looking forward to the opportunities presented by the Tournament.

The next morning, Rose was shook awake by Tia Marsh. "Wake up, Rose!" she laughed. "We're all going down to watch the Goblet!"

Stories from her childhood flooded her mind—the Goblet of Fire, a magical device that would choose a Triwizard Champion from each school. Students of a legal age—that is to say, seventeen—would have a twenty-four hour time period in which to submit their names. Rose realized that that time must have started after the feast the night before. The champions would be chosen that day—Halloween.

The Great Hall already had decorations up for the holiday. Miniature pumpkins floated around the enchanted ceiling, which, disregarding the early hour, displayed an orange sunset. The usual dining tables were absent; instead, a large wooden goblet sat in the middle of the room on a plain stool.

"The Goblet of Fire," remarked Albus, handing Rose a slice of toast. "From what Dad said, I expected it to be…bigger."

Rose had to agree. "I'm sure it seemed a fair bit larger when it was spitting his name up," she replied. She often wondered about the series of spells and enchantments that the Goblet must have undergone in the years following her parents'. It had been hoodwinked to believe that there was a fourth school competing in the Triwizard Tournament, so before the next Tournament could commence, that misconception had to be set straight.

Or perhaps not, she thought. Perhaps they left it as it was, seeing how no one knew the name of the school Harry Potter was entered under. Perhaps it was left as a mystery. (Perhaps she was looking too far into it, she chastised herself as she took a bite of toast.)

The Durmstrang delegation entered, Ivanoff leading his students directly towards the Goblet. He stopped short of the glistening gold Age Line, put in place by McGonagall and reviewed by both Ivanoff and Madame Maxime to prevent underage wizards from entering their names. The students continued forward, each one holding a folded parchment square that bore their name and school. Only one boy stayed back.

"That's Dmitri," whispered Rose, nudging Albus, who was focusing on the older students. "The boy standing back with Ivanoff. He said his brother Rafael is Durmstrang's chosen…"

She could not pick out one of the Durmstrang students as bearing an uncanny resemblance to Dmitri until one boy stepped out of the Age Line. He immediately went to Dmitri's side and lay a hand on his shoulder. It was obvious then that their hair was the same shade of sandy-brown, and Dmitri seemed to be developing his older brother's strong jaw.

"Congratulations, Rafael," Ivanoff said, clapping the older boy on the shoulder. "This night will be…"

The Durmstrang headmaster continued, but Rose lost his words as the Beauxbatons delegation entered. Madame Maxime was wearing dark blue robes, and her hair was pulled up in its usual tight bun. Her students, both male and female, filed in behind her in two neat lines.

"They're saying it's their year to win," James said, coming to stand next to his brother. "I was out at Hagrid's looking at Beauxbatons' horses. Did you know they're Abraxan?"

"Yes," said Rose, realizing that she had not told James of her night yet. She opened her mouth, then thought twice and shut it. He was still too biased to understand her budding friendship with who he thought of as 'the enemy'.

Dmitri, however, did not share her qualms about the introduction. He walked over to Rose as Ivanoff continued his conversation with Rafael. "Good morning," he greeted with a grin. "Did you sleep vell?"

James' surprise was almost comical. "Very well, thank you," said Rose hurriedly. "Dmitri, these are James and Albus Potter. James, Albus, I would like you to meet Dmitri Romolov."

"How do you do?" asked Dmitri formally. His grasp on English seemed rocky at times, but he was impeccably polite. When he's not pointing a wand at you, Rose amended silently.

Albus, having been forewarned, recovered first. "It's very nice to meet you," he said, shaking Dmitri's outstretched hand. "Rose told me about you last night."

James shot Rose a glare and said nothing. Noticing the cold silence, Dmitri said awkwardly, "I must be return to my brother. Ve must eat and then return to the ship. Vould you like to come?"

Though desperately wishing to accept the offer, Rose had to refuse. "That's very kind, but we can't," she said. "We have work to do, but we'll see you later, alright?"

Dmitri returned to Rafael, who automatically put a protective hand on the younger boy's shoulder. Ivanoff did not so much as spare Dmitri a glance as he continued his conversation.

James turned to Rose. "What was _that?_" he asked incredulously. "You've _met_ one of them?"

"I'll have you know that Dmitri is _nothing_ like you thought they'd be," retorted Rose, immediately defensive. "You didn't have to be outright _rude_, you know."

Unable to retain even a momentary anger towards his cousin, James rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Just keep him away from me and we'll be fine."

Keeping Dmitri away wasn't a concern. The Durmstrang students returned to their ship and remained there for the duration of the day. The Hogwarts students lazed around, ignoring the textbooks that lay abandoned in their common rooms.

"You'll be sorry about your laziness come Potions tomorrow," sighed Rose, though she herself had yet to look up the properties of wormwood when used in a Sleeping Draught. She, Albus, and James were sprawled out in a corner of the Great Hall, watching the miniature pumpkins chase each other around the room. Lysander leaned against a pillar, a textbook open in his lap.

"Rose, I was supposed to tell you that Lorcan went key-hunting," Lysander said absently, flipping the page.

Lorcan reappeared just as the students were ushered out of the Great Hall. "We need to prepare for the feast," said McGonagall, waving the protesting students away. "The tables must be replaced, the Goblet must be moved—go wait in your common rooms until it is time to eat!" she finally snapped when James tried to slip back inside.

"But Professor, I left—"

"Go! Now!"

Voicing their various complaints, the Gryffindors headed for their common room. They passed a group of Beauxbatons students who were looking around as if lost.

"Excuse me," said Rose, catching their attention. "Do you need help finding something?"

They regarded her loftily. "_Non_," said one boy, "_Nous ne sommes pas—"_

"_Oui_," interrupted one of his companions. She had deep mahogany hair tied at the nape of her neck. "Do you know ze way to ze Great 'All? We cannot work with zeese stairways."

"Sure," said Rose, "but it's closed until the feast. Just follow this corridor to the end, then take the staircases as far down as they go. The door on your right is the one you're looking for."

"_Merci_," the girl said before leading her friends away. They took up a conversation in rapid French, and though Rose couldn't understand the language, she thought she heard _Weasley_ and _Potter_ as the students faded away.

The feast could not go by quickly enough. All of the students ate their food rapidly, barely stopping to converse with their neighbors. Rose had been hoping that Dmitri would sit with the Gryffindors, but she saw him being pulled to the Slytherin table by his brother. She offered a friendly smile and a wave before sitting with Albus.

When the food was finally consumed—"I think I'm going to be ill," groaned Albus—McGonagall stood. Directly before the Head Table rested the Goblet of Fire, tall flames still glowing blue. An immediate hush fell over the room; everyone had been waiting for this moment.

"The Goblet of Fire is about to proclaim the names of the Triwizard Champions," announced McGonagall, her clear voice ringing through the room. The students shifted in anticipation. "If—and for three of you, _when_—your name is called, please proceed to the antechamber located on the side of the Hall." She gestured to a plain wooden door. "Now, this—"

The Goblet's flames suddenly flashed red, and a strained hush fell over the Hall. McGonagall, not entirely prepared, leaned forward with her arm fully outreached to catch the bit of parchment that flew from the flames.

"Well," she said, resettling herself. "It appears that the Goblet is ready to commence." She unfolded the parchment and read the name it bore. "The champion for Durmstrang Academy will be Romolov."

Cheers rose from the Slytherin table. Rafael stood, grinning abashedly. Dmitri met Rose's eyes with a look of dejection. At the Head Table, Ivanoff pounded on the table and cheered along with his students.

"Awfully presumptuous, isn't he?" said James scornfully as the cheers continued. "You know, most people would use their whole name."

Rose remembered what Dmitri had said: _He's Ivanoff's chosen champion…_ It was now obvious that that was true. She was surprised that the other Durmstrang students had been allowed to submit their names at all.

Rafael exited the Hall into the antechamber where the champions would meet as the flames flashed scarlet once more. The cheers died down as McGonagall caught the next square of parchment.

"The champion for Beauxbatons Academy," she read, "will be Mariette Croisseux."

The girl who had spoken to Rose in the corridor stood, her smile composed and calm. "The Beauxbatons students don't look as happy for their champion as the Durmstrang students were," remarked James as the blue-clad students clapped politely. Indeed, some of them were shooting less-than-pleased glances at their classmate, who held her head high as she strode across that Hall.

That left only Hogwarts. One final flash of red—one last piece of parchment—and, "The Hogwarts champion will be Alistair Trimble."

Rose clapped automatically as she scanned the room for the unfamiliar name. A boy rose from the head of the Slytherin table—it was the same boy who had paid unusually close attention to Scorpius Malfoy's sorting, Rose realized as he stood. He had dark brown hair and eyes that seemed to focus on everything at once. He grinned in a friendly manner, saluted the Slytherins, waved at the Hall in general, then turned and entered the antechamber.

Ignoring McGonagall's closing remarks, Rose leaned forward and whispered to James. "Who was that?"

"Alistair Trimble," he responded unhelpfully. "He's in Slytherin."

Rose rolled her eyes; she _knew_ that much. She had to wait until after the feast's official end to gain more information.

"Whenever I see him, he's with a group of his cronies," said James when asked about Alistair once more. "They're always strutting around the school like they own it."

"He's a disgusting boy," remarked Victoire coldly, overhearing their conversation. When Rose asked for more information, however, Victoire sent her off to bed, saying, "You must get your rest. Classes resume as normal in the morning."


	4. Practical Arts

School returned to normal the day after the champions were selected- more or less, that is. Students returned to their scheduled classes, with one small addition.

"Students will remember that at the beginning of the year, I announced that those free blocks on your schedules were not permanent," McGonagall announced over breakfast.

"Of course we do," muttered James. "What kind of school gives you free time, then takes it away?"

"Well, I am pleased to announce that we have a new course starting up," the headmistress continued. "Professor Ivanoff and Madame Maxime, along with myself, will be teaming up to teach Foreign Studies. We will be educating you on magical variations between regions on a rotating schedule."

Rose checked her schedule. After Double Herbology, she was scheduled for a double free, which would undoubtedly be replaced by Foreign Studies. "This should be interesting," she said to Albus, who was leaning over to peek at her schedule.

Foreign Studies was a course unlike any of their others. All students, whether of Hogwarts or foreign, took it together in the Great Hall, where four sets of large padded bleachers had been set up. Rose sat near the front with the other first years, who automatically separated themselves based on house.

Madame Maxime entered, and all of her students immediately stood, and remained standing until she settled into the oversized plush chair where the Head Table normally was. "All of you, stand up," she said, and her students leapt to their feet as if the bleachers had turned into flames. "Now, zere is no reason for all of you to be sitting in zese 'ouses. Switch yourselves, now."

The Hogwarts students looked around reluctantly. Victoire and Molly Weasley simultaneously turned and walked away from their seats. This was a class, and Madame Maxime was obviously the teacher, and thus deserved their automatic obedience. Slowly, the other students trickled out of their comfort zones, and the houses began to mix. There were still clear divisions; the prefects ended up in a small huddle near the front, where the Ravenclaws had been sitting, and Rose spotted Alistair Trimble surrounded by a clump of older Slytherin boys. Rose ended up settling in a few rows back from Albus after seeing that he had found Liam O'Grady. Tia Marsh waved from a few feet over; she was next to Slytherin Callum Leach, who was doing his best to ignore her.

When everyone had settled themselves into their new seats, Madame Maxime declared comfortably, "Zat is better. Zese will be your seats whenever I am instructing you.

"Zis is a place as good to start as any. Now, Minerva 'as been very…liberal in 'er standards for zis course." Her nose twitched, but the rest of her countenance did not give way to the barred disdain that was in her voice. "As zat is ze case, I feel it is my obligation to forewarn you zat I am not 'ere to abandon ze secrets of my palace."

It took Rose a moment to remember that Beauxbatons Academy's building was called the Beauxbatons Palace, similar to the Hogwarts Castle.  
"I am 'ere to educate you on 'ow my academy is run," the headmistress continued, proud head held high, "and ze first zing you will learn is zat at Beauxbatons, we do not believe in zis foolish 'ouse nonsense." She waved a hand dismissively.

Her air of superiority extended to all of the topics they covered under her. "Now, I 'ave been informed about ze 'Ouse Elves working in 'Ogwarts' kitchens. No. Non, non, non. At Beauxbatons, we 'ave specially-trained witches and wizards making our meals each day. None of zis, zis 'Ouse Elf nonsense.

"And ze food itself!" she exclaimed. "Not nearly so 'eavy and crude. I would never let my students consume zeese, zeese feasts every day! 'Ow you do not all bloat up like ze balloons, I will never understand."

Albus turned and shot Rose an incredulous look as Maxime asked if someone could fetch her a drink. Her students quickly rose, but Molly Weasley, sitting closer to the front of the Hall, reached her first.

"Just some wine from ze kitchens," said Maxime. Molly nodded, paused in thought, then executed a small curtsy before walking briskly away. Some of the students snorted- one Slytherin boy laughed outright- but Madame Maxime nodded in approval.

"We shall discuss 'ow you should treat your teachers and 'eadmistress," she said, "but for now, reflect on what I 'ave told you."

The students relaxed, but there was none of the chatter usually heard between students, as Slytherins had ended up next to Gryffindors, Beauxbatons next to Durmstrangs, an arrangement which, although pleasing to Madame Maxine, was not conducive to casual remained in their seats- that was obviously the safest course of action.

Alistair Trimble seemed to think otherwise. He rose and walked across the front of the Hall, ignoring the hush that had fallen and the stares directed his way. When he reached the Beauxbatons headmistress, who had leaned back in her chair with one brow raised, he bowed.

From her spot near the rear of the bleachers, Rose could not make out what Alistair was saying. Whatever it was, it pleased Maxime. She relaxed her rigid expression to one of slight amusement. Slowly, faint conversation in the Hall resumed.

Rose spotted Dmitri and waved. He was sitting, not surprisingly, to the left of his brother- but they were not with the rest of the Durmstrang students, who had mainly remained on the Slytherin bleachers. Dmitri did not see Rose's gesture. He seemed to be in the midst of an unpleasant conversation with Rafael.

"Nyet!" he said angrily, loud enough to turn heads. Seeing people turn, Rafael put on a strained smile and continued the conversation in a whisper.

Luckily for the brothers, Molly chose that moment to return. She held both a long-stemmed wine glass and a bottle of rich burgundy wine. Alistair offered her a polite nod of his head as she arrived before Maxime. She returned the gesture but concentrated on pouring a glass of wine.

"Merci," said Maxime, accepting the glass. "Just put ze bottle zere, on ze table."

"Merci, Madame," said Molly, placing the bottle on the table. "C'est un honneur."

Madame Maxime raised her thin, dark brows. "Parlez-vous francaise?"

"Un petit peu," demurred Molly with practiced humbleness. "Ma cousine Victoire m'apprend le française. "

Rising from her seat in the front row, Victoire curtsied. "Vous etes Victoire Weasley!" exclaimed Maxime. "Je me souviens de toi."

Their conversation continued, branching into a level of French that Rose could not hope to follow. Molly mainly stayed mute, having thoroughly exhausted her lingual skills. Dominique and Louis, however, were following the conversation with a level of attention usually reserved for Quidditch.

"They were discussing why Victoire chose to attend Hogwarts instead of Beauxbatons," explained Dominique after the bell rang. She had been sitting only a few seats away from Rose and looked mildly perturbed. "It was a tough choice for all of us, actually."

Rose knew the difficult situation Fleur's children had been put it. Allowing for their mother's heritage and homeland, they had been invited to both Beauxbatons and Hogwarts. The decision had been especially hard on Victoire, who had spent each summer in France with her grandparents.

"Why was she bringing that up now?" Rose asked. She thought that it was rude to discuss in front of the entirety of Hogwarts— though admittedly, most of the room's occupants had not understood a word. Dominique shrugged, her mouth still set in a hard line as she walked away.

A few benches along, an odd standoff was taking place. Rafael, drawn up to his full height, had locked eyes with Alistair, who stood directly in his path. Though lanky, Rafael was far from weak, with his wiry muscles. He pushed Dmitri behind his back and squared his shoulders.

"Please step out of my vay," he said softly. Alistair tilted his head, smiled, then stepped to the side. Rafael hooked an arm behind Dmitri and swept him down the stairs, not looking back at Alistair, who retained a thoughtful expression.

"What was up with Alistair and Rafael?" Rose asked Albus, who had waited for her at the bottom of the rows of benches.

"What d'you mean?" he said obliviously. "Oh, did you see Alistair with Madame Maxime? What d'you reckon they were talking about?"

"Interesting lesson," remarked Lysander, drawing up next to the pair before Rose could respond. "I would have liked to hear more about how their classes are structured, but I suppose that will come with time."

Their next Foreign Studies lesson, however, was taught by Professor Ivanoff. "Oh, just make yourselves comfortable," he said upon seeing the students trying to figure out if they should sit in their house seats, or where Maxime had put them. Rose ended up with a group of Gryffindors, consisting of Albus, James, Lysander, Tia Marsh, and some of Albus' roommates, including Liam O'Grady and Dominic Woodard.

Ivanoff sat on a normal chair that looked like the ones that typically lived behind the Head Table. He leaned to one side, resting on an armrest in an utterly relaxed matter.

"As you all know," he began, "I am Vikenti Ivanoff, head of Durmstrang Institute. It is my hope that through this course, we will all come to understand what makes each other's schools tick."

James looked at Rose with a poorly concealed smirk. "Oh, I bet," he mouthed.

"Now, as a sort of good faith gesture," continued Ivanoff, "I would like to begin with a brief lesson on Durmstrang's history, to show that all of these secrets between the schools can so easily be done away with."

Everyone, even the Durmstrang students, looked surprised at this pronouncement. Ivanoff, however, remained completely self-assured.

"Durmstrang Institute was founded by brothers Alek and Stefano Durmstrang. They had been self-taught with secrets of magic passed down through their family, which included numerous spells that they and their ancestors had created.

"The brothers built up a sensible institute which was intended to serve as a location to house their relatives and teach the next generation. However, after the brothers died, the Institute was taken over by Maria Durmstrang, one of their cousins. She decided to open the Institute to the surrounding magical community.

"The Institute has expanded over the years. We now invite all magically-gifted children of former students, as well as accepting applications from affluent families from around the world."

This was an interesting difference from Hogwarts. Rose knew from Hogwarts, A History and Magical Training: from Home to Hogwarts that Hogwarts invited anyone with magical talent, whether their parents had attended the school or were Muggles. Not everyone invited decided to attend, of course; the famous Limosa Sisters were very proud of the fact that their entire line was home-schooled. And if a child had only a touch of magic in them, they were often kept home as to not have them fall behind at a formal academy.

"Now, there is the Institute's basic history," said Ivanoff, lacing his fingers together in his lap. "I would like to take the time to answer some questions, clear up any longstanding…misconceptions."

No hands went up. After a moment, Lysander rose his. "How do your lessons run?" he asked, seeming genuinely interested. Immediately after Ivanoff answered- their classes were also separated by year, but additionally by gender- a flood of questions met him.

"Only two of the eligible girls from the Institute made it into the dozen students I could bring," explained Ivanoff when asked about the apparent gender inequality. When it was clear that the majority of the students did not know what he was referencing, he elaborated.

"You see, we had many students interested in entering the Tournament," he explained. "As I could only bring a dozen students, anyone interested was required to pass through a series of tests and challenges of my own design. Those receiving the highest scores were permitted to make the trip."

Some of the questions received less-than-informative answers. When hesitantly asked about Durmstrang's reputation for teaching the Dark Arts, Ivanoff sighed. "I know I said I wanted to tackle misconceptions," he said, "but we only have a few minutes remaining, and I wish to fully address that matter. But certainly, next time I am your instructor, I will speak on the matter unreservedly."

"Awfully convenient response, wasn't it?" remarked James as the dismissal bell rang. "Leave it until the end so he can think up a good lie for next time."

"Or maybe he really had no time," offered Rose, but she knew that James was in no mood to consider any theories beyond his own.

They lounged outside the Hall until the stands had been turned back into dining tables. James continued his verbal tirade against Ivanoff until they reached the Gryffindor table. Then he sat, assuming a surly silence.

Two minutes later, Dmitri flew through the main doors, as he had at the start of each meal since the champions had been selected. This time, however, someone was with him. Rafael Romolov followed his brother to the Gryffindor table, a steady hand on the younger boy's shoulder.

"May I sit vith you?" he asked as Dmitri fell into his usual spot.

Rose glanced around. When it was clear no one else was going to speak, she said, "Fine with me."

Rafael took the seat next to his brother and did not speak again. Dmitri launched into a story about one of his classes; the foreign students had the option of sitting in on Hogwarts classes, but most of them chose instead to study with their own head. Dmitri, however, found the lessons intriguing and attended as many as possible. Due to his age, he was with the second years. By choice, he followed the Gryffindors' schedule. Lysander was ecstatic- he was enjoying getting to know the foreign boy- but James was still sullen about the addition to the group.

"You are using some of the most interesting potions," said Dmitri. "This morning, ve made vun vith no magical ingredients at all!"

"Just because they're not enchanted doesn't mean they do not have magical properties," corrected Lysander— for once, his nose was not buried in the pages of a book. "The white petals we were using today, the asphodel- it's not magically enhanced, but that's because its nature is inherently magic."

Dmitri paused, then nodded. "I see your point," he said, "but at home, ve put magic on it all, to make all the things most strong."

Nibbling on the end of a carrot, Rose considered this. "But what if you wanted to make something weaker?" she asked. "Say, a light Sleeping Draught as opposed to the Draught of Living Death?"

Confusion swamped Dmitri's face. "I do not understand," he said apologetically. "You say, vhat if I vant something to be not strong?" The concept seemed to befuddle him. "No, I am sorry. I do not—"

Rafael began speaking in a language none of the others could identify. Slowly, Dmitri's confused expression eased up to one of slight amusement.

"I see now," he said once his brother had returned to eating in silence. "Vhy vould you vant something to be not as strong?"

Lysander and Rose took turns attempting to explain, but it was of no use.

"It's not that he doesn't understand the words," said Rose with exasperation once they were back in the common room. "But the concept is completely foreign to him!"

"It's not how they do things at Durmstrang," said Lysander. "The concept of something that is weak being superior to something that is strong is not what they teach."

It was not the first time that Rose wished Hogwarts offered a foreign exchange program. Foreign Studies was interesting enough, but she wanted to be able to fully immerse herself in one of the foreign schools' ways. She would have never thought that someone would be confused by non-magical ingredients; she used them often with her mother.

The next day brought a double Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, which had been highly anticipated by all of the students. "D'you think you'll be doing Stunning Spells?" asked James over breakfast. "That was one of my favourites. I bet I could hit that Slytherin bloke with one from here…"

Rose hit his arm as he reached for his wand. "Do you want to lose those points I got during Foreign Studies with McGonagall?" she hissed. She had earned Gryffindor five points for being able to name all the courses Hogwarts offered and was intent on keeping them.

Secretly, though, she hoped James was correct. The first years had spent the past two weeks learning about the physical effect of Stunning Spells- the reason stunning magical creatures could be more difficult, or even impossible; how to Stun something in the dark ("Or you could just light up your wand," said Liam O'Grady). They had previously practiced Stunning birds, but Evariste assured them that humans were a touch more difficult.

The classroom floor was littered with mismatched pillows and cushions in an assortment of sizes and colors. "I Summoned them from all over the castle," explained Evariste as Albus inspected a heart-shaped pillow adorned with lace and frills.

When everyone had arrived ("Just sit on the pillows, now, no need for chairs"), Professor Evariste exhaled deeply and leaned against his desk.

"We've reached the point where it is very important that you listen to me," he said. His hazel eyes landed on each of them as he spoke. "Up to now, we have only gone over shields and such, correct?" There was a general murmur of agreement. "And as much as I enjoyed watching all of you throw pebbles at each other, it's time we progressed."

He selected two students- Odessa Blackwell and Tomasa Kerbow- and had them stand at the front of the classroom. "Now, this is how we are going to begin: find a partner and face each other. Not yet!" he cried as they all scrambled to rise. "Trust me, we will have plenty of time. For now, just watch the demonstration.  
"Now, Miss Blackwell is going to be the attacker. At the count of three, she will try to Stun Miss Kerbow. For the purpose of this exercise, it is important that this is all you do. Miss Kerbow, please resist the urge to repel the spell or shield yourself.

"Is everyone paying attention?" It was an unnecessary question; the entire class was staring at the two Slytherin girls with rapt attentiveness. "Perfect. Miss Blackwell, on my count, if you would so oblige us. One… two… three."

Odessa raised her wand and yelled, "Stupefy!" in a voice which betrayed her confident expression. Tomasa flew backwards like a doll, landing limp on a pile of pillows and scattering the students who had been sitting nearby.

"Everybody back, please," said Evariste calmly, quelling the mutters – anxious or amused, depending on the house – with a single raised hand. "No, do not touch her." He leaned over Tomasa and murmured, "Ennervate."

Tomasa sat up slowly and with a dazed expression, her eyes struggling to refocus. Evariste helped her to her feet, and she teetered precariously for a few seconds, before regaining her balance and going shakily back to Odessa, who was looking rather unconcerned at her friend's unsteadiness.

"Now, what we just witnessed was both a lack of proper concentration and a lack of proper instruction," explained Evariste. "The more grievous breach was on my part. Let's take a moment to return to the theory behind this spell. As you have previously learned, it is one of the broader magical incantations, which can often lead to situations like the one we find ourselves in now.

"Miss Blackwell knew that the incantation was for the Stunning Spell. However, as she only concentrated on the broad term, the spell's reaction was violent and strong. What we must do is focus on one facet of the spell: we want Miss Kerbow to freeze, but not to fly backwards as she did. Thing of the specific action you are aiming for. Visualize it, and you will succeed. Now, if we could try this one more time? One… two… three."

This time, Tomasa froze in place, her eyes wide and unfocused. Odessa smirked as Evariste praised her. "Very good, a neat job of it indeed!" He once again unfroze Tomasa, who appeared mildly disconcerted, particularly at the look on her friend's face. "That time, Miss Blackwell was wholly concentrated on the effect of the spell, as opposed to restricting herself to the immediate connotations of the word. A very nice job indeed. You two may return to your cushions, and five points to Slytherin for providing such excellent examples."

The rest of the class split off into pairs. Rose stood with Albus, who looked nervous. "It's a simple spell," she said. "Stop squirming. You've done it before!"

"On birds," he retorted quietly as Evariste moved pairs around the room. "Not people!"

"Just pretend I'm Louis," joked Rose. Albus had once accidentally frozen his cousin mid-air during a family Quidditch match. He still maintained that it wasn't his doing, but Rose knew him well enough to catch him in a lie.

Professor Evariste reviewed the instructions before letting the students begin. "Remember, now, no shields. I expect to only see you freezing each other. If it turns into something else, we will have to stop."

In the first few minutes, no one was properly Stunned. Albus pointed his wand at Rose and let out a half-hearted "Stupefy." The only result was a tingling in Rose's fingers, which dissipated as she clenched and unclenched her hands.

"Come on, now!" cried Evariste after Cameron Thornton flew across the room after being hit by Dominic Woodard's unfocused Stunner. "You have to concentrate on the effect you want the spell to have. If you don't see it, you will not be able to make it happen."

"Let me have a go," Rose said to Albus, taking out her wand. "Ready?" He nodded, looking as nervous as before. "One… two… Stupefy!"

Albus froze, emerald eyes wide and vacant. His wand, which had been loosely held in his hand, slid to the floor. Rose grinned, feeling the familiar surge of pride that met a new accomplishment.

"Well done, Miss Weasley!" cried Evariste. He was walking around the room, systematically unfreezing various body parts. He waved his wand at Albus, who immediately stumbled forward a step.

Albus picked up his wand and, after one more try, was able to cast a perfect Stunning Spell. The rest of the class was also catching on; Mary Deverill, one of Rose's roommates, was getting a bit overzealous with her wandwork.

"Whoops," she giggled, having Stunned the wrong person for the third time. "I reckon I should work on my aim…"

"Just concentrate," was Evariste's failsafe response.

The next problem arose when Callum Leach grew tired of being Stunned. When his partner said the incantation, he blocked the spell. The red streak of light bounced off of his Shield Charm, flew across the room, and shattered a window.

"And that is precisely why I said not to put up a shield," said Evariste as he flicked his wand at the window. Shards of glass flew back together and into the frame as an undamaged pane of glass. "Since Mister Leach is so interested in how the Stunning Spell interacts with magical matter, he will open our lesson on Monday by telling the class what would occur if such a spell was to go through that bottle there." He gestured to a tall bottle on a shelf near the window. "Mister Leach, you may need help identifying the contents of the bottle; I would recommend consulting Professor Slughorn. Think of it as a joint assignment.

"Now, if I'm not mistaken, the bell is going to ring any moment now, ending out time together. I have another class to teach before lunch, but my understanding is that first years have Friday afternoons free, correct?" The students nodded. "Perfect- I also have this afternoon off. You are all welcome to return and practice your Stunning Spells, if you so choose."

"I'm thinking of going back after lunch," said Albus as he and Rose headed back to their common room to drop off their books- ("Don't bother bringing textbooks on Fridays," Evariste had said upon seeing that most of the class had brought them. "Unless I say you will need them, assume that we will be working on practical spell applications.")

Rose supposed she should go along for the extra practice. After lunch, however, she realized that she had left her wand in her bag, which was still in the common room.

"I'll meet you there," she told Albus before returning to the seventh floor. Her wand was right where she had left it, and she stuck it in the pocket of her robe before exiting the common room.

As she passed the sixth floor, she stopped, seeing two figures at the end of the corridor. She was about to continue on her way- but then she recognized one of the figures as Rafael.

"You vill leave me alone," he was saying in a low, angry voice. "Do not speak to Dmitri. Ve make our decision long ago."

Instead of responding, the other figure paused. "We have a visitor," he said in a smooth, unctuous tone. Both figures turned, and Rose saw the other boy's face for the first time.

It was Alistair Trimble.


	5. Foreign Studies

Contrary to being upset at finding someone eavesdropping on his conversation, Rafael looked almost… relieved? "Rosaline," he greeted, walking away from Alistair. "Perhapsing you can help me." Rose was alarmed- she did not see a place for herself in what looked to be an argument between champions- but Rafael continued. "I am looking for the classroom of Professor Flitwick."

"Oh," she said, surprised. "Not a problem. It's-"

"Rafael, I'm going there as well," interrupted Alistairsmoothly. "Why don't I show you the way?"

When Rafael responded, his tone was icy. "The girl vill show me," he said, not turning.

Rose led Rafael back out to the main stairway. They did not speak until they reached the third floor, where Flitwick's classroom was located. Rose bit her lip, trying to repress her curiosity.

"I feel I must be apologizing," Rafael said abruptly.

"Not at all!" said Rose, taken aback. "I wasn't listening to your conversation, really, I was just passing by when-"

He silenced her with a wave of his hand. "I do not think you vere being a listener," he said. "I must ask you to not speak of the… the…" He struggled to find the word. "The conversation," he finally said. "Do not mention of it to Dmitri. I fear it vould be upsetting."

"Of course I won't," agreed Rose. She only intended to tell two people of the matter, and neither of them was Dmitri.

"I give you much thanks," said Rafael upon reaching Flitwick's room. "I have been asked to come for… they vey my vand?" He wore a dubious expression. "I do not know. It is a happening for the Tournament."

That explained why Alistairhad said he was heading to Flitwick's room as well. "Best of luck on the… weighing," offered Rose. Rafael smiled and thanked her once more before entering the classroom.

Rose tried to sort out what she had witnessed between the two champions. Had they been arguing over the Tournament? But Rafael had mentioned Dmitri. And then there had been the incident in Foreign Studies…. She still hadn't figured out what _that_ was about.

She was so consumed in her thoughts that she did not see the tiny set of witches until she had almost walked into them. "I'm sorry," she apologised hastily, taking the pair in. They were identical twinswho seemed school aged, or slightly younger. However, they did not wear school robes – instead,they were cladin matching magenta suits**, **with colour co-ordinated bows nestling atop their brown bobs. Rose thought the ensembles were odd on such young girls.

"Not a problem," one said in a clear, ringing voice. "Would you happen to know the way to the Charms classroom?"

"These staircases have gotten us all backwards," said the other.

Rose was terribly confused. The voices matched the small bodies- the girls might have been as young as eight or nine- but the words and expressions did not. "Of course," she said at last. "It's right this way." She turned and headed back in the direction she had come from. The twins followed, their identical kitten heels clicking against the marble floor in eerie unison.

"We've been to the castle before," said one of them, "but I swear, each time we're here, the staircases are never where they were!"

"They move," explained Rose absently.

"Ah."

"We're here for the wand weighing," said the other twin- or perhaps it was still the first. Their voices were as matching as their faces, and without turning, Rose could not tell them apart. "Do you remember where it was last time?"

Rose thought the question was directed to her, but a twin answered before she could. "Last time it was _here_."

"So it was. Alright, then, the time before that."

"Durmstrang, but they didn't want us there like this."

"But we snuck in as those lovely sisters, remember?"

"So we did, didn't we?"

It was a relief to finally reach the Charms room. "This is it," announced Rose**, **grateful to be leaving their company.

The twins looked around the corridor, appearing mildly confused. "I suppose it is. Do you reckon that, along with the stairways, they change the _rooms_ around?"

"No, because then how would the students make it to their classes?"

"They manage alright with the stairs."

Rose slipped away, but before she reached the end of the corridor, one of the twins spoke again. "It's Rosaline, isn't it?"

Startled, Rose turned. "What?"

The other twin- or perhaps it was the first, she still couldn't tell- snapped her fingers. "Rosaline Weasley, that's it," she said with a satisfied smile.

"Well- well, yes," Rose stuttered, unsure of what else she could reply. She was spared the need to say anything; both girls spun and walked through Flitwick's door, side by side.

By the time Rose reached the Defence Against the Dark Arts room, she had still not made sense of anything that had happened since lunch. "Where were you?" asked Albus after being unfrozen- they were in the midst of learning Freezing Charms. He was paired off with Dominic Woodard, who convenientlytook this moment to ask Professor Evariste a very long and complicatedquestion.

Rose recounted her afternoon to Albus, who was no less confused than she. "And then they just turned and went into the classroom," she finished with a sigh.

Albus took a moment to think over everything Rose had said. "Well, the part with Alistair is definitely something to watch," he finally said thoughtfully. "Didn't you say something happened with them during Foreign Studies?"

"They were staring each other down," said Rose. "It's really weird."

"Maybe it's just a champion thing," suggested Albus, but Rose shook her head.

"No, I know it's more than that. And if it was just about the Tournament, wouldn't we be seeing more of the same with the Beauxbaton champion?"

Mariette Croisseux had thus far remained the quietest champion. From what Rose had been told, Mariette only attended Foreign Studies; the rest of the time, she took private lessons with Madame Maxime, and remained in the Beauxbatons carriage during free time and meals. Other Beauxbatons students roamed the castle and grounds, but their champion remained silent and hidden.

During Foreign Studies, she gave off the impression of quiet superiority. She always sat with a gaggle of her friends, to whom Madame Maxime's rule of separation and integration did not seem to apply. She was only on speaking terms with one student outside the Beauxbatons delegation: Victoire Weasley.

"I'm the only one who speaks her language," scoffed Victoire one night in the common room. Louis had been partaking in a particularly crude imitation of Mariette, stemming from his distaste for her headmistress. He had not gotten over Maxime's public discussion of his family's choices. "Of course she speaks to me. I can speak back."

The Foreign Studies lessons were always highlights of the week. Madame Maxime came to the conclusion in early November that all of the students (besides her own, of course) were disrespectful and had to be taught manners.

"You stand when your 'eadmaster or 'eadmistress enters ze room," she began her third lesson. The Hogwarts students glanced around; the Beauxbatons students were, indeed, standing. They only sat when their headmistress did. "Zis extends to ze 'ead of any school. When I enter, you stand. When Vikenti enters, you stand. When Minerva enters, you stand."

They practiced until every student leapt to their feet as soon as Madame Maxime passed through the doors. "Better," she allowed. "You still 'ave a ways to go."

When it came to providing examples to the class, she invariably used Mariette and Victoire. "See 'ow Mariette walks? It is ze walk of a lady." "Victoire, curtsy like zat again- now, everyone, keep zat move in mind. It will serve you well, done just zat way."

Maxime's lessons quickly grew to annoy the boys. "I can't believe I just spent an hour of my life watching all of you _curtsy_," groaned James as he collapsed into a chair by the Gryffindors' fireplace. "That is an hour of my life I will never get back!"

"Don't complain," retorted Rose sourly "Did you have to do the stupid curtsies?". She had not enjoyed the lesson either, and now had to concentrate on a Transfiguration essay that she should have already finished. After twenty minutes, though, it was clear that she was not going to get any work done in the crowded common room.

She told Albus that she'd be in the library, then gathered her books and slid through the portrait hole. Even in the library, though, she could not concentrate on her work. Her mind kept returning to Alistair Trimble and the confrontation with Rafael in the corridor. What did all of it mean?

Eventually, she pushed the matter out of her mind and forced herself to begin the essay. When she was finished, she scowled at the words. It was hardly her best work, but it would have to do.

She was packing her beg to return to the common room when Briar Longbottom plopped down in the seat across from her.

"Hello, Rose," he said glumly. "What're you working on?"

"I just finished up the Transfiguration essay," she said. "Briar, what's wrong? You look half-dead."

"I went to work on Stunning Spells with Professor Evariste," he explained wearily. "It was…long."

"But I bet you're better for the practice," said Rose encouragingly. "C'mon, we'll stop by the Hospital Wing. Madame Chang will have something to pick you up."

The nurse gave Briar a small glass of Energizing Elixir. "This should help, dear," she said kindly. "I made it myself earlier today. It's from a weaker batch, so it shouldn't keep you up terribly late."

Rose had noticed a colorful magazine open on one of the unoccupied cots. Curious, she picked it up. A large, moving picture that covered one of the open pages caught and held her attention. The three Triwizard Champions looked up at her, waving and (mostly) smiling.

Mariette Croisseux, in her powder-blue Beauxbatons robes, wore a flirtatious half-smile. Her dark brown hair was loosely pinned so that it fell over one shoulder. On either side of her stood Alistair and Rafael. Rafael looked serious and strong, his solid jaw raised in defiance. Alistair was charming with a wide grin and a twinkle in his eye. Every now and then, he would duck his head abashedly, but the smile remained.

There was an article on the opposite page, titled, "Wands at the Ready: The Triwizard Tournament." Rose sat on the cot and began to read.

Ten minutes later, she put the magazine down, thoughtful. She ignored Briar, who had struck up a conversation with Madame Chang, and reviewed what she had read. The article contained interviews with all three champions. That was no surprise; there had been a similar piece the previous morning in the Daily Prophet, which she had delivered every morning.

No, this piece was interesting because of what questions the champions had been asked- or, more specifically, what they had not been asked. The interviewer had not posed a single question about what the champions expected from the Tournament, or what they planned to do with the prize money (a thousand Galleons, the gold Wizarding coin of the highest value), or what they thought of the danger. Instead, the champions had been asked exclusively about their personal lives.

Which was still nothing unusual, Rose reasoned to herself, but… there had been something in one of the questions that had caught her attention. She flipped through the interview, trying to find it. There it was, on the second page, a few lines under Alistair's picture.

"_I was raised by a loving family in Cheshire,_" he had said when asked about his family. "_They were both wizards and agreed to adopt me from my uncle Damien, who had taken me in when my parents couldn't keep me. See, my mother was a witch, but didn't tell my father, who was a Muggle. She thought he'd leave her, so instead, she gave me up and moved away with him. Damien was in the middle of touring the world, so he couldn't keep me and placed me with my parents- I think of my foster family as my real family, though we share no blood."_

"_That's precious, just precious,"_ the interviewer said. "_Now, we have to ask about the inscription on your necklace. What does it mean?_"

"_Trijuska?" Our interviewee turns his head, looking a little embarrassed. "It's a family heirloom, actually, the only thing I have from my biological family. I always keep it on."_

Was that it? Was it the fact that he hadn't answered the question that bothered Rose? No, she was certain that she had heard that word before. Trijuska…

"Oh! That's just- that's just nothing," said Madame Chang quickly, taking the magazine from Rose. She had apparently finished her conversation with Briar. She shooed the students out of the hospital wing, looking suddenly flustered.

As she brushed out her hair that night before bed, she turned to her roommates**. **If anyone could tell her about magazines, it would be them. "Have you been reading up on the tournament?" she asked innocently. "I saw this magazine-"

Tia laughed as the other girls squealed. "Which one do you want?" asked Mary Deverill, yanking a box out from under her bed. "I'm the ultimate fanatic when it comes to these things. I don't bother with the Prophet, that's all trash. No, you find the best-"

"No, that's fine," said Rose quickly. "I actually just read part of a recent interview-"

"My issues for the month haven't arrived yet," sighed Loren Nicosa as Kara Welsh sprawled across her bed to get a look at Mary's copies.

"They're amazing," said Mary with excitement. "I mean, you _have_ to see some of the pictures they have of that Durmstrang boy."

"I only read one of the articles-" began Rose.

"Was it the one about Oliver Wood?" squealed Kara, flipping her plait over her shoulder. "He's done amazing things with Puddlemore-"

"He's done amazing things with his _eyes_!" breathed Loren heavily. "Every time he's featured, I just about _die_."

Rose had remembered the reason she never tried to sustain a conversation with these three giddy, chatty girls. She considered trying some more questions, but the girls continued talking about Oliver Wood, who Rose didn't see the appeal of. He had attended a few meals with Albus' family and hers, and he seemed nice enough, but she didn't fancy him. Shaking her head, Tia came to sit next to Rose on her bed.

"Just ignore them," she said. "I do."

Rose smiled. As she looked back to the giddy girls, their magasines vanished. A second later, the door flew open.

"Bed," snapped Victoire. "All of you. It's far… far too late for you all…" She left without finishing her thought.

"What's the matter with your cousin?" Mary asked Rose. "She looks like she's been Confounded or something."

The girls laughed, but Rose slid off her bed. "I'll be right back," she said, leaving the room. She was in the room closest to the bottom of the girls' staircase; logically, Victoire would be at the top. Instead, Rose found her sitting between the landing for the third and fourth years.

"What's wrong?" she asked. Victoire's face was covered by her long hair, and her hands clutched a letter. Rose saw that the handwriting on it was not Teddy Lupin's before Victoire shoved it away.

"Nothing," she said softly. "If you'll excuse me, I must go send a letter." Without another word to her cousin, Victoire stood and resumed her walk up the stairs. Rose returned to her room, utterly confused and mildly concerned.

Victoire was not at breakfast the next morning, but by then, Rose had other things to concentrate on.

"Ve have less than a veek until the first task," said Dmitri glumly as he spooned eggs onto his plate. He was missing his usual exuberant expression. "So few days."

Rose glanced at Albus; with all their time with the Durmstrang boys, they typically avoided the topic of the Tournament. "You're not looking forward to it, are you?" she asked.

"No," he grunted. "They have been told not anything about the task. 'Bring your vand.' Vhat can you do vith only a vand?"

"It vill be plenty," said Rafael quietly. It was one of the few times he had spoken in the presence of the Gryffindors. Over meals, he typically remained silent, letting his dynamic brother carry on conversations. He only spoke if it was to explain something or reassure Dmitri, as was the case now. "You do not vorry about me. You vorry about other things."

But all of the school seemed to be abuzz about the first task. Heads turned when Alistair passed in the halls. He was constantly surrounded by a group of Slytherins, both in his year and years below him.

"Those are the Payne brothers," said James as the Slytherins entered the Hall for lunch on Friday. Two burly boys flanked Alistair, bearing a striking resemblance to each other. "Delbert and Faustino Payne. Faustino was supposed to finish school last year, but he failed all of his exams."

Even the teachers couldn't keep their minds off the upcoming task. "Just, oh, talk amongst yourselves," surrendered Flitwick after his third attempt at starting the lesson on Monday failed. He was as nervous as the students, bouncing on the stool he perched atop.

Rose turned the page of her book, ignoring the conversations around her. Albus looked at what she was working on and sighed. "Still looking for- what was it?"

"Trijuska," repeated Rose, "and keep your voice down."

"Rose, if _you_ don't know what it is, no one else here does either."

She hated admitting that he was correct. And it hardly mattered, except for the fact that it stuck in the back of her mind like an unreachable itch.

Five minutes before the class was schedules to end, one of the paned glass windows flew open. A thin scroll of paper zoomed in, halted in front of Flitwick, and unfurled itself. The man read it quickly, then squealed and toppled off his stool. Before he could right himself, the message had disintegrated.

"Must go attend to… they finally… and we were all worried…" muttered the professor as the students looked on in confusion. He smiled, slid off the platform, and was halfway out the door before he thought to call back, "Class dismissed!"

That night, Dmitri could only pick at his food. "I am feeling ill," he announced, rising suddenly from the table. "Please excuse me." He quickly strode from the Hall, ignoring the stares from other tables.

Surprisingly, Rafael did not get up to follow his brother. "He is vanting to be alone," he explained wearily. "I understand."

"He's really trying to be supportive of you," said Rose. She felt the need to stand up for her friend. "I mean, I suppose the Tournament is dangerous…"

"You know it is not," said Rafael bluntly. "The tasks have been made as to not have the deaths. I do not vorry."

"But Dmitri does," replied Rose.

"I know." Rafael paused uncertainly. "You vill vatch him for me tomorrow? He really is liking you, which the other boys are not understanding."

Rose felt a faint blush rise up her cheeks as she nodded. "We all like him, too," she said, Albus nodding his agreement. Even James grunted; if it was an objection, it was a weak one.

The morning of November twenty-eighth dawned dry and cool. Rose went down to the Great Hall, where Albus had already begun to eat.

"Any sign of Dmitri?" Albus, mouth full, could only shake his head. "I hope he comes to breakfast. We're free after lunch, right?" A nod from Albus. "Well, that's something. Just double Potions and History of Magic to get through."

Everyone was jittery, even though the first years didn't know their champion like the other students did. Some pretended to- "We were having quite the talk just a few days ago," bragged Callum Leach. He stopped when someone made a joke about what Evariste might think; he had gained a quick reputation for the professor's least favorite student.

In celebration of the first task- "It's nothing to look so glum about. This is a happy occasion!"-Slughorn assigned the brewing of a Triumph Potion. "It doesn't actually turn the odds in your favor," the teacher clarified. "No, but it gives you the most wonderful feeling of being on top of the world. I wouldn't advise taking it alone, however, as you might go out and do something truly witless."

Rose waited for Albus as long as she could; after breakfast, he had said that he wanted to return to the Gryffindor Tower and grab a new quill. She had offered to lend him one of hers, but he had been insistent. Now, as the final bell rang, he was nowhere to be found.

Slughorn noticed only as he was calling roll. "Where is young Albus?" he asked, turning to Rose. She and Albus were permanent partners.

"He had to- er-" stuttered Rose, trying to think of something to buy Albus time.

But Slughorn suddenly nodded understandingly. "Ah, he saw his dad, didn't he?"

"What?"

"I suppose it's proper time to tell all of you," said Slughorn thoughtfully. "Well, the first task is only hours away, and as they are already here- this year, three of the judges are previous Triwizard champions. One from Beauxbatons, one from Durmstrang, and our very own Harry Potter, representing Hogwarts' win over twenty years ago."

Not another remark on Albus' absence was made. Slughorn put them all to making the Triumph Potion, which Rose was fully capable of doing alone. Others, however, had more difficulty.

Across the dungeon, a cauldron flew into the air, then crashed to the stone floor with a resounding bang. The students standing near it leapt back as Slughorn sighed deeply.

"Crispin, are you trying to destroy my classroom?" he asked**, **with deceptive patience. Crispin Orthos, a Slytherin boy, had drenched the bottom of his robe in the potion, which was slowly shooting shining golden tendrils up the back of the dark fabric. "Go to the Hospital Wing. Madame Chang should have… something for that."

Crispin left the room in a hurry; his robe was starting to get heavy. The Slytherin students perched on their stools as Slughorn whipped out his wand and siphoned away the spilled potion.

"Shame," he said mildly. "Scorpius, continue working with Rose over there. She's a good potion-maker- certainly superior to Crispin."

Rose almost lost what Slughorn had said in the compliment- but then Scorpius picked up his copy of _A Beginner's Guide to Potions_ and crossed the dungeon. Both halves of the room stared as the first inter-house pair formed.

Scorpius nodded to Rose, who immediately returned the gesture. He had white-blonde hair, and with his unnaturally pale eyes and pallid skin tone, he almost resembled one of the wispy Hogwarts ghosts. He looked even lighter in contrast to the flat black robe and dark, vibrant green accents that marked him as a Slytherin. Silently, he took a large Lily root and began to slice it.

Taking a deep breath, Rose returned to stirring the potion, ignoring the eyes that were on her and her new partner. When it was time to add the Lily root, she only had to turn to him; he added them in small handfuls, then moved on to slicing the next ingredient. They worked that way for the rest of the hour, building their potion in silence. When Slughorn came around at the end of the class, he was clearly pleased.

"Excellent work, both of you!" he praised. "This potion would cause the most wonderful, if irrational, feeling of success. Rose, this is superior to your collaborations with Albus. Watch him more carefully next time when he is chopping ingredients, and fix whatever he is doing wrong. Scorpius, anything is better than your work with Crispin. Don't let him touch the cauldron anymore."

He emptied their cauldron before moving on. Rose silently packed her bag, and Scorpius did the same. She wondered if swiping some of the potion for Dmitri would have been a good idea, but quickly dismissed the idea. She would never want someone giving her a potion without her knowledge- but then, maybe he would have agreed.… She worried about it for lack of anything else to dountil the bell rang, then hurried to get out of the dungeon. She had to try to find Albus.

Unfortunately, Albus was not in the Gryffindor Common Room, nor was he already in Professor Binns' classroom. Rose was tempted to run down to Hagrid's hut- she, Albus, and James went down there after their Defence double hours if they didn't have something to practice- but had no time before class. Instead, she had to make her way to History of Magic, where shesettled into her seat and took out her book, which they never seemed to need. Binns had it memorized, word for word- she had checked.

Right before the bell rang, Albus and Dmitri ran through the door, both boys laughing. They spotted Rose and joined her at her table, wearing matching grins.

"Where were you?" hissed Rose as the bell rang. As it did, Professor Binns floated through the wall and hovered in front of his lecture podium, precisely as he had done at the start of every lesson that year. Deciding to risk a quiet conversation, Rose continued. "And why is Dmitri here? Shouldn't he be in…" She tried to remember what class James had now, still wondering what the boys had been doing to put a smile on Dmitri's face on today of all days.

"Binns won't notice," Albus mutinously. "I'll explain later, don't worry."

"Good morning, Rose," greeted Dmitri, polite as ever. "How vas Potions?"

She couldn't explain that now. Glaring at Albus, she began to take notes on the Triwizard Tournament of 1614. The only sign that Professor Binns showed that he knew the Tournament was going on was taking time out of class to recount previous Tournaments- most of which ended badly. Belatedly, Rose realized that this wasn't the best class to have brought Dmitri to.

Albus realized the same thing and begin writing notes to Dmitri. They maintained a silent conversation until the bell rang and both of them burst into laughter. Albus crumpled the parchment and handed it to Rose. Rolling her eyes, she poked it with her wand and it went up in cool orange flames. After a few seconds, it was no more than a handful of ashes.

They exchanged stories on their way to lunch. "He put you with _Malfoy_?" said Albus incredulously, his expression making him look more like James than ever.

"It wasn't that bad," said Rose honestly. "We didn't talk to each other at all. But seriously, where did you go? Did you really run into Uncle Harry?"

"I still can't believe he's here," marveled Albus. "That's… No, I didn't. I went looking for Dmitri, who was actually down at Hagrid's."

"I vanted to be seeing the horses," explained Dmitri. "Albus found me." He glanced at Albus with a conspiratorial smile. "Ve skipped our lessons."

"I was already late to Slughorn's," Albus said defensively. "We went and had tea with Hagrid. Dmitri sampled his fruit cake."

"It vas quite good!" exclaimed Dmitri with a grin. "Different from home. I liked."

"He's not lying, either." Albus assured Rose, looking a little incredulous. "Ate nearly the whole cake."

They made it halfway through lunch before Dmitri fully remembered about the Tournament. His fork clattered down to his plate, and he propped his head in his hands. "Vhat am I will _do_?" he asked hopelessly. "Rafael is there and I am here and I vant ve vere home."

"It's only the first task," reasoned Albus. "They wouldn't put anything dangerous up first, right? They'd save all of the bad stuff for the end."

Rose thought this would worry Dmitri more for later, but for now, it calmed him a bit. "I suppose," he allowed, picking up his glass of water- one part of Hogwarts he could not get used to, no matter how hard he tried, was the pumpkin juice.

They put themselves in the midst of the throng headed down to the Quidditch pitch. It had been off-limits to students for the past week, though gazing out the window of the Girls' Dormitory, Rose and Tia had agreed that it looked the same. When Rose, Albus, and Dmitri reached the field, however, there were three immense black boxes lined up across the pitch. They were as tall as Hagrid, if not taller, and six times as wide in both directions.

Hagrid himself was sitting near the bottom of the stands next to James. He waved the group over with a large grin. James also smiled, even when Dmitri greeted him.

"Hey, Dmitri," he said, sounding only the slightest bit reluctant. Rose raised a brow at him; he shrugged. "Can't ignore him forever." He turned back to Dmitri, and asked, "Where were you all morning? I almost got worried."

Rose turned to Hagrid as Albus and Dmitri recounted the story of their morning to James. "Slughorn told us this morning that Uncle Harry's here," she said, leaning forward to dodge Albus, who was on Hagrid's immediate left. "Have you seen him yet?"

"Harry?" asked Hagrid, a deep flush rising up his cheeks- he had tied his busy hair back with a rough rope and the aid of what looked like thick, gloppy gel. "I dunno what yer talkin' 'bout. Havn' a clue. High Hippogriffs, it's hot out here. Don' you feel that?"

"No," said Rose slowly. "Hagrid, are you alright?"

A man appearing at the end of the row saved Hagrid from answering. He was nondescript in all ways possible. His hair was of an average length, slightly messy, and a plain blonde-brown. He wore a simple black robe and blended into the other adults filing into the stands. Hagrid, however, looked up and grinned at the stranger.

"'Bout time yeh showed up," he grunted, struggling to rise. With a grin, the man bent down and gave Hagrid a hug, patting him on the back.

"It's good to see you too, Hagrid," the man greeted warmly. "Let me just squeeze in here and we can talk."

Lorcan Scamander poked his head out from behind the man. "Hello, Rose," he greeted as she looked over at him. "Hello, Hagrid. Hello, Uncle Harry. So it is true, that you're here. I overheard the professors talking about it over lunch."

Everyone stared at Lorcan for a long moment, then the man began to laugh. "Very good, Lorcan," said Harry, shaking his head in disbelief. "When you make your schedule for next year, sign up for Divination. Professor Trelawney would love to have you."

Rose raised a brow at her uncle, who came to sit between Hagrid and Albus. Harry's sons were in the middle of an intense conversation behind Rose's back, and neither noticed the appearance of their disguised father.

"So who… Teddy?" guessed Rose, looking over at the judges. Surely enough, there sat Harry Potter, having a discussion with the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. If the real Harry was disguised as a stranger sitting in the stands, then someone else had to be pretending to be Harry up on the judges' platform. Rose's guess was Teddy Lupin, who had inherited his mother's gift of being able to shift every part of his appearance at will. By Harry's nod, she was correct.

"He wanted to see Victoire," he said, "and I wanted to see my sons. Speaking of Victoire, though, how is she? Ted seemed worried."

"She's… I'm not sure, actually," admitted Rose. "I saw her at the end of last week, and she seemed upset about something. Maybe it's good that he's here."

They talked for a few more minutes, then Rose nudged James, who was to her left. "Switch with me?" she asked. "I want to talk to Dmitri." They switched, and Rose watched as Harry told his sons who he was. Albus embraced his father furiously, and though James was more restrained, she could tell he was equally thrilled to see Harry.

"How are you holding up?" Rose asked Dmitri, who was staring at his shoes. He shrugged and continued to stare down.

Rose looked up as a hush fell over the crow. In the middle of the field, atop the immense podium, a tall black man had stood and was waiting for the crowd to settle. The students hushed each other, pointing to the Minister for Magic.

It was time for the first task to begin.


	6. Pandora's Box

"Greetings, all, and welcome to the Triwizard Tournament." A huge, amplified voice filled the Quidditch pitch. "I am Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic for the United Kingdom, and it is my great pleasure and highest honor to welcome you to the first Triwizard task.

"As you all know, this Tournament was founded to allow schools of magical learning to visit each other, learn each other's ways, and have their students form lifelong bonds. Of course, the way to do that, the Tournament's founders decided, was to pit the students against each other in deadly competitions."

A hearty chuckle from the crowd, and Kingsley continued. ""Today, we have lessened the danger involved in the tasks. There is still considerable risk, however, so the three champions you will see today are all over the legal age- here, it is seventeen."

"Is it different in other places?" asked Lorcan with interest, who had come to sit between James and Rose.

"I think it might be lower in France," said Rose, "but I can't remember. They may have some sort of provisional-"

But Kingsley was continuing. "Here to judge today are the witches and wizards behind each school. From Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, Madame Olympe Maxime,"

All of the students promptly jumped to their feet as Maxime rose and waved. For the first time, Rose saw the headmistress laugh openly, without snideness or derision.

"From Durmstrang Institute, Professor Vikenti Ivanoff."

The students, well trained by Madame Maxime's Foreign Studies lessons, stayed on their feet as Kingsley called, "And finally, headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Professor Minerva McGonagall!"

She received the loudest applause from the crowd. She stood, brought her hands brieflytogether in silent thanks, then sat. The students settled back into the stands as Kingsley continued.

"No one knows the struggle of being a Triwizard champion better than these next three. Former champions themselves, here are Petya Kiernoff of Durmstrang, Louis Montageux of Beauxbatons, and Harry Potter of Hogwarts!"

Deafening applause met the last name. Teddy-Harry stood dutifully, nodding and smiling until at last, Kingsley blasted his wand for attention. Rose looked at Harry as the crowd settled.

"Certainly the chance to avoid the overwhelming adoration has nothing to do with the disguise," she muttered, knowing he could hear.

He grinned at her. "Never, Rosie. Can you imagine me missing an opportunity to be lauded over?"

Rose grinned. She knew that her uncle was joking; he had a knack for getting incredibly busy at work just when an invitation arrived for him to attend an event.

"It's safest for me here" he continued, "and it would be terribly inconvenient for me to die just at the moment.See, up there on the platform, I am completely vulnerable and at a horrible angle. Here, I am part of a crowd and can quite easily reach the champions if such need arises."

Rose's father had told her often that Harry had changed over the years. "Or maybe he always had all these escape routes in his head," Ron Weasley mused. "At least back then, he didn't share them over dinner. Though I must admit, they _have_ come in handy a number of times…"

Rose understood that it came from Harry's being Head of the Auror Department at the Ministry of Magic. She stored that away as a good defence against Dmitri's nerves- Albus' father did dangerous things for a living, and he was fine. So far, anyway.

"Now," said Kingsley, "the point of this task is to test the champions against the unknown. Each of these boxes-" He gestured to the black boxes on the field. "-will present a series of challenges the champions will have to face. Scoring will be based upon the order that the champions complete the challenge."

At some invisible cue, the three champions strode onto the field, heads held high. Rose squeezed Dmitri's hand; he had begun to shake upon the sight of his brother. Rafael searched the crowd until he found Dmitri. When he did, he patted his chest twice, just below his neck. Dmitri repeated the gesture weakly with his free hand.

Each champion stood next to his or her box. Mariette had begun to inspect hers with interest and mild confusion. Alistair, feet planted firmly on the grass, grinned into the crowd, waving to people that shouted his name. Rafael had something in his hand; it looked to be a necklace. He held it for a moment longer before slipping it around his neck and tucking it into his deep red shirt.

"Champions, you have been informed about the task prior to this point, is that correct?" The three champions nodded. "Then we shall begin. Remember: your task is to bring back the scroll. In three… two… one…" Kingsley's wand shot off like a canon.

The champions stared at their boxes, obviously unsure of what came next. Slowly, the front wall of each slid down. The crowd craned their necks to see what the boxes' insides looked like, but each champion hopped inside as soon as the wall was low enough for them to manage it. Ten seconds later, all three students were gone.

"The champions can no longer hear us," said Kingsley**,** in a more subdued tone. "A bit about the Pandora's Boxes. Early prototypes of these devices had challenges based off of each champion's individual fears, but as they stand now, each champion will be facing the same series of events. This includes everything from curing a case of Lightning Bumps- many prominent wizards of our time cannot work a simple Healing spell- to stealing a scroll from the nest of a Granian."

Rose and Dmitri exchanged a look and laughed. "It vill not be easy," said Dmitri with relief, "but he vill be remembering them from home. The others vill not."

"See?" asked Rose. "These tasks aren't so dangerous after all."

She did not mention the questions that were burning to be asked: who was keeping watch of them inside the Pandora's Boxes? How much danger did these simulations pose? What sort of safety-

But for Dmitri's sake- and her own; she had grown fond of the silent Rafael- she did not voice any of her concerns. Instead, she turned to her uncle. "Harry?" she said, and he turned. "May I introduce my friend?"

"Of course," he replied. It was the most relaxed Rose had ever seen him in disguise; probably because this was almost recreational.

"Dmitri, I would like to introduce you to my uncle, Harry Potter. Harry, this is the Durmstrang champion's younger brother, Dmitri Romolov."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," said Harry.

Dmitri gaped. "But you are- and he is- and you-" he stuttered, looking from Harry to Teddy up on the platform with the judges. "Are you Harry Potter truly?"

"I truly am," said Harry with a laugh.

"_O__ moj bože_," breathed Dmitri. "Rafael says you are the vun who…" He trailed off, eyes wide.

Rose grinned, watching asHarry managed to hold up a conversation with both his sons and Dmitri, while listening to Hagrid's story about a recent Blast-End Skrewt mating fiasco. Apparently multi-tasking was an acquired skill in politics.

"Look, Dad!" cried Albus at one point, pulling something from his pocket. He sounded much younger than his 11 years. "Look who I got on the way to school!"

Harry regarded the Wizard Card with a soft smile. "I am very glad that you got this," he said quietly. "Keep it, now, and never forget."

Lorcan chose that moment to turn to Rose. "Brilliant idea," he said, and it sounded like he was paying her a compliment. "Rose, do you know how to do a Summoning Spell?"

"In theory," she said, frowning, "but that's pretty advanced for me. Why?"

"I just had an idea about the Finders," he said, pulling one of the thin silver devices out of his pocket. "It would be a stronger spell than the one I originally used, though. I may have to work on it a bit."

Kingsley stood, his amplified voice once again rising above the crowd. "According to our experts," he said, gesturing to a pair of esteemed-looking witches seated behind the judges, "the champions should be approaching or in the midst of their final set of challenges."

Dmitri clasped Rose's hand once more, his air of relaxation gone with the Minister's words. "Breathe," ordered Rose, but the majority of the crowd seemed to be with Dmitri. Chatter died down to murmurs of nervous anticipation. Even Rose revisited her dubious thoughts of the safety measures.

The minutes drew on, until even the whispers dissipated into nothing. Kingsley stood on the judges platform, his face perfectly serene. When a low, grating sound filled the stadium, the Minister didn't so much as flinch.

Mariette Croisseux stepped out of her Box, covered in sweat and splattered with what looked like mud. A large chunk of her robe was missing- it looked like it had been seared off- but her smile was triumphant, and she clutched a thick scroll in her left hand.

The crowd cheered as a team of Healers ran to the Beauxbatons champion. They rushed her to the side of the field, where the other Beauxbatons students hurried to embrace her.

"In first place, we have Mariette Croisseux of Beauxbatons!" announced Kingsley- quite, thought Rose, unnecessarily. "As soon as she is cleared by our team of Healers, she will come up to the judges and sit with Madame Maxime."

The crowd remained tense as everyone waited for the other two champions to appear. It couldn't be too long now. But the minutes drew on- Mariette finished speaking to the judges and climbed the narrow steps to the platform, but still the boys had not returned.

Thirty, forty minutes passed, and Kingsley was finally visibly restless. He consulted frequently with the witches behind the judges, who just shook their heads in befuddlement.

Finally, a sound**, **quite unlike the grating noise that had accompanied Marriette. The crowd drew in a collective breath as both remaining boxes began to open. Rafael emerged first, a long slash down his cheek, another across his chest. Alistair stumbled out, clutching his right arm, which was bloody. Both wizards looked like the walking dead.

The Healers split in half and swarmed the champions. Alistair let them pull him towards the sideline, but Rafael backed away from the Healers and would not let them touch him.

Rose only realized what Dmitri was doing when they were both halfway down the stairs, connected by the reassuring grip she had kept on his hand. She tried to break free, but the connection was steely.

Rafael was still backing away from the Healers when they reached him. "Dmitri," he said as his younger brother finally released Rose's hand to hug him tightly. "Not now," he grunted. "Valk. Come, you, now."

Not quite thinking about what she was doing, Rose fell in with the brothers as they began walking away from the Healers. Rafael was speaking in rapid Russian to his brother, who asked an occasional tentative question and received a curt response. Rose only spoke when they reached the castle and stopped.

"Rafael, you're bleeding," she said softly. Rafael grunted, not looking at her. Sighing, Rose turned to Dmitri. "There's a Healer who stayed at the castle. Will he see her?"

"I vill," replied Rafael curtly before Dmitri could speak. Rose led the pair in silence, letting their foreign words wash over her. It now sounded like Dmitri was starting to panic and Rafael was calming him. Every now and again there would be a familiar word, but by the time her brain caught it, it was gone.

They reached the Hospital Wing without seeing anyone- even the ghosts had gone to the field to see the first task. But there was one person that Rose knew would not be there.

Madame Chang took one look at Rafael and gasped. "What have they done to you down there?" she asked, worry creasing her face. "Come, we'll get you sorted out."

Rose pretended to not see the framed picture and tear-stained handkerchief lying where Madame Chang had been sitting. Instead she sat on the cot next to where Rafael was being worked on.

"This will sting," warned Madame Chang before slathering a thick layer of lilac gel over the cut on Rafael's cheek. The Durmstrang boy winced but said nothing.

The best part about Madame Chang was that she asked no questions. She hissed sympathetically upon seeing the gash across Rafael's chest, but did not ask what had happened. Rose, however, did not share the Healer's unquestioning attitude.

"What happened to him?" she asked Dmitri quietly as he came to sit by her. "Why did he leave? The judges-"

"Hell on the judges," said Rafael bitterly, having obviously heard her. "Hell on the Tournament. I vill compete no more in it."

"But it's a binding magical contract," blurted Rose. "You can't-"

"I can. I vill."

The doors to the Hospital Wing burst open, and a swarm of people entered. Kingsley matched pace with Ivanoff, who was already spewing Russian at his champion, who remained calm under the furious gaze of his headmaster. The other heads and judges brought up the rear, with the two witches who had created the Boxes trailing behind uncertainly.

Kingsley waited for a pause in the conversation between Ivanoff and his student to say, "Gentlemen, if you please."

"If I please nothing!" cried Ivanoff furiously, but now his anger was directed towards the room at whole. "An attempt has been made on my champion's life!"

Madame Maxime looked around, as if expecting to find an assassin lurking under one of the cots. "What does ze boy mean?" she asked.

Rose moved out of the way as Ivanoff said, "Rafael, if you could recount what you just told me?"

There was room for her a few cots away, where the Boxes' inventors had perched themselves. Rose saw now that they were identical twins- her stomach sunk in realization.

"Where are the _real_ inventors?" she murmured under her breath.

The Gemini looked at her,apparently amused, and she blushed as she realised they had somehow heard every word. "Away," one said, "but don't worry. We know everything they do about the Boxes." She tapped her head while the other began to take notes.

"I vas in the box," began Rafael. "I see scroll, like ve vere told to get. I get it and vant to leave, but it is not ending. It changes. I see-"

The window above Rafael's cot shattered with a noise akin to an explosion. Everyone covered their heads, and there were yells and shouts as shards of glass rained down on their exposed arms and hands. On the foot of Rafael's bed lay the source of the broken window.

Madame Chang shrieked. Tied to a rock was a black raven with iridescent feathers that glinted threatening in the innocuous sunlight. It's neck wasclearly broken.

No one moved for a long moment. Finally, with a jerky motion**,** Kingsley repaired the shattered window and McGonagall levitated the rock and bird off the bed to a nearby table.

But out of everyone, Rafael looked the most disturbed. He stared at the bird, wide-eyed for a few moments, then leaned back against the wall and shut his eyes.

"I am sorry," he said stiffly. "I feel not vell. The Granian kick my head when I take scroll."

"He really should be taken care of," said Madame Chang, her eyes still on the bird. Professor McGonagall quickly covered it with a handkerchief, then shuddered and looked away. "I took care of those nasty cuts, but I haven't had a chance to do a thorough examination."

Kingsley looked to Ivanoff, who nodded. "If the Healers could come to the ship, that would be best," the Durmstrang head said stiffly. "I will take him there myself."

Dmitri followed Rafael and Ivanoff, eyes trained on the floor. Madame Maxime swept out of the room, undoubtedly in search of her champion. The others slipped out- Teddy had exited before the broken window, probably in search of Victoire- until only Rose, Madame Chang, and the Gemini remained.

"Well, that was a shocking turn of events," remarked one twin as Madame Chang scooped up the handkerchief and whisked it away into her office.

"What do you think he was going to say?"

"Why he stopped is more important, I think."

"I reckon it had to do with the bird."

"Well _I_ reckon we're missing something."

Rose looked at the two with interest. "Are you actually going to write about this?" she asked.

The Gemini looked at each other, then both said, "No."

"It would be an exclusive piece-"

"-but also an inconclusive piece-"

"-and that doesn't make for much of a story."

"No, not at all."

A weary Rose quickly said goodbye and left the Hospital Wing, too tired to ponder further on the mysterious twins. She needed to talk to Albus, and she knew that if his father was still on the grounds, there was only one place he would be.

"It's me," she called, pounding on Hagrid's front door. The door immediately swung open to reveal the most people that Rose had ever seen in Hagrid's hut at once. Harry, now in his proper form, sat at the table with his sons. Hagrid, who had opened the door, pulled a chair out for Rose to join them.

"Where were you?" asked Albus as Rose sat. "You just disappeared with Dmitri, then Rafael is gone and the judges are announcing that they have to hold out on giving the scores, and then _they're_ gone-"

Rose hurriedly recounted what had occurred in the Hospital Wing, leaving out the presence of the Gemini. "So Rafael should be back at the Durmstrang ship at this point," she concluded, taking the mug that Hagrid offered her. She sniffed it when he wasn't looking; it seemed to be plain tea, safe enough compared to some of the brews she had been subject to.

"What's he playing at, saying someone tried to kill him?" said James indignantly. "It was a _challenge_."

"I don't think that's what he meant," said Rose.

Looking thoughtful, Harry set his mug of tea down. "It's definitely something to watch for," he mused. "Al told me that you had been aware of a previous situation with Alistair?"

"They've exchanged words," summarised Rose, not wanting to get into the details of the incidents when there were more pressing matters at hand.

After a long moment, Harry sighed. "I'm afraid this Tournament brings out the worst in people," he said. "That was my main objection to bringing it back." He glanced out Hagrid's open window to the darkening sky. "We should be getting back to the castle. You all need to eat, and I'm supposed to sit with Neville at the feast."

Rose wanted to object, to say that the current situation was about more than just the Tournament, but Harry seemed preoccupied with other matters. She kept her feelings to herself.

On the walk back, Harry reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out a letter. "I almost forgot," he said. "Rose, this is for you. Hermione asked me to deliver it. Ron sends his love, and Hugo is angry you're not coming back for Christmas."

Part of the Triwizard Tournament was the Yule Ball, which took place on Christmas Eve. As a first year, Rose would not be attending unless asked by an older student, which she wasn't expecting to be. However, she had decided to remain at the castle over break anyway, seeing how exciting things would undoubtedly be occurring. She had finally made it to Hogwarts, and she was in no hurry to get away.

The feast had not yet begun, but most of the students were at their tables. Rose was relieved to see Dmitri wave to them from among the Gryffindors, though Rafael was nowhere to be found.

"I vas thinking you vere all gone," said Dmitri with relief as Rose, Albus, and James sat down. "Vhere you all go?"

"Down to Hagrid's for a bit," replied Rose. "How is your brother?"

Dmitri's expression sank. "He is fine. Healers tell him to rest. He rests."

Though Rose was desperately curious about what the scrolls said, she knew it was not the right time to ask. Instead, she looked down the table to where Victoire sat. She was talking to her friends and holding the hand of a boy in Gryffindor robes that Rose did not recognize. It could only be Teddy.

She kept an eye out for him that night in the common room, but when Victoire finally appeared, she was alone. Speaking to no one, she ascended the stairs to her room.

In a quiet corner of the room, Rose and Albus began working on a Transfiguration assignment. They had to list the color changes an object would undergo while shifting from orange to violet.

"If it hits red, you've gone too far," corrected Rose absently, reading Albus' scroll upside-down, "and I think Professor Randor said to list them vertically." The Transfiguration master was a stickler for order and precision.

"Who d'you reckon threw the rock through the window?" asked Albus, siphoning some dried ink off his parchment in order to fix his mistakes. "And don't just jump to say it was Alistair, because he was still on the field when I left for Hagrid's."

"I don' know," admitted Rose, "but I know it scared Rafael, and badly. I've never seen him frightened before, not once. But then…you should have seen his face."

They had been working in silence for a few minutes when Albus asked, "Do you think it has anything to do with Dmitri?"

Rose considered this. Dmitri was the one thing- person or possession- she knew Rafael was protective of. And hadn't he mentioned Dmitri to Alistair on the sixth floor that day?

"I think it might," she said, reminding Albus of what she had overheard. "It's clear that the brothers are close. Do you think Alistair would use that against him?"

Albus sighed. "I know you're not fond of him, Rose, but I don't see how one bloke could be in two places at once. I saw him on the field."

"And I saw the dead bird tied to a stone," said Rose stubbornly. "I'm not saying he's doing this alone. What about those creeps he's always with?"

Albus listed them for her. "Delbert and Faustino Payne aren't smart enough to do anything but grunt. James says that Baena is smart, but that doesn't mean-"

"_None_ of it means anything," sighed Rose. "Never mind, I'm not awake enough to think this over." She quickly reviewed her Transfiguration work before shutting _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ and heading upstairs.

But once she was in bed, all she could think about was the Tournament. When Alistair had emerged from his box, his eyes had met Rafael's for a brief moment before the connection shattered. But both champions had emerged in the same instant, the same bubble of time. Surely she had not been the only one to notice.

That night, her dreams found her locked in a dark, airless box that slowly constricted around her, squeezing the last bits of air from her lungs. Bright, colorful flashes of light illuminated images; steel feathers- sharp fangs- red eyes- the glowing tip of a wand.

The wand was connected to an arm. Rose saw Alistair Trimble amble forward, wand arm completely extended, an eerily smooth expression on his face.

"Come on, now," he said as he sauntered forth. "Can't we all just be friends?"

A flash of brilliant, colorless light, and Rose was staring at the hangings that dripped maroon around her bed. Once more, she was alone.


	7. The Durmstrang Ship

One morning over breakfast, Lorcan turned to Rose and said, "We're going key-hunting today."

Rose looked up, startled. It had been a week since the first task, and though Rafael had returned to the Hall, their group was not the same. Though he had previously been exceedingly quiet, Rafael was now completely mute. He ate with his wand on the table, always a few inches from his hand.

Another change came between classes. Rose would often see James, Lysander, and Dmitri,who were all the same age, walking together, but now Rafael joined their group, a steady hand on his brother's shoulder. James reported that he was always right outside the classroom at the end of class, ready to meet Dmitri when the bell rang.

In all of the events surrounding the Tournament, Rose had forgotten about Lorcan's mystery door. "I didn't even notice that you and Lysander had switched places," she commented. "Lorcan, why do you think this key even exists?"

"Trust me, it does," he replied confidently. "Another trick will be finding the door."

Sighing, Rose took the Finder he offered her. "Did you fix the spell on this?" she asked curiously, turning the thin straw between her fingers.

"With Lysander's help. It _should_ work, but as I haven't been able to test it out…" Lorcan shrugged.

So Rose was supposed to find a key that may or may not exist, with a magical instrument that may or may not work. Perfect.

"I actually can't go hunting today," she said, remembering her plan for the day. "I have some researching to do in the library."

"That's fine," said Lorcan. "Just keep an eye out for the key. Test out the Finder, see if it does anything."

Rose did spend the day in the library, burning through book after book. No matter how many tomes she searched, however, she could not find the term Trijuska. She knew she had heard it somewhere before, but the more she searched, the farther away the answer seemed. Her sole achievement was to test Lorcan's Finder – she Found a book that she had been looking for, but unfortunately, the Finder paid very little attention to anything in between the Found Object and it. Rose found this out when _Famouse Wizardes and Witches of the 13__th__ Century_ tried to fly to her Finder through a large wooden bookcase and a tall Hufflepuff's head.

Lysander found her later that afternoon, hidden behind a mountain of books. "Looks like you're up to something… sneaky," he said with interest, examining a copy of _Where to Find Fantastic Felines_, only to put it back on top of _A Progression of the Dark Arts_. "Sampling the library's selection?"

"I'm looking for a word, but I don't know what it means, and I don't know where I heard it," grumbled Rose, setting aside _Notable Magical Names of Our Time_. "I don't even think I read it somewhere."

Lysander sat and picked up _Magical Customs while Travelling Abroad_. He helped Rose search books from the arcane to the mundane until the librarian noticed the hour and kicked them out. Together they walked back to Gryffindor Tower, eyes blurring and fingers numb.

As December continued, the students' focus shifted to the upcoming Yule Ball. By custom, only fourth years and above could attend, though they could ask younger students to go with them. Dmitri was the exception to the rule.

"I find out that, since I am guest, I go to Ball," he said excitedly over breakfast one morning. "Rose, vill you come vith me? I am allowed to bring friend. You are friend, are you not?"

Rose was touched that he had asked her. "I'd love to," she said earnestly**, **surprised that she meant it. "Thanks."

She was not surprised to hear that James had been asked by an older student. He had always been popular amongst his friends, and apparently popularity transcended age. The shock came with Albus.

"She just… asked me," he said, eyes wide. He had just stumbled into Potions class after being held up by a group of giggling girls. "Mayra Howell. Her sister's going with James. They thought it would be fun…"

…to take the Potters to the Ball, completed Rose silently. To be honest, she was surprised that the Howell sisters had been the only ones. She often caught girls from other houses staring at the brothers. She wasn't jealous of her cousins; if anything, she felt bad that they were the objects of such unrestrained and unwanted attention. Unwanted for Albus, that is. James reveled in the glow of his parents' reputations.

Two weeks before Christmas Break, Professor Evariste announced that they would be holding class outside. "As Professor Trelawney recommended it," he explained, "I will abide." Rose and Albus grinned at each other when he mentioned the Divination teacher famous for predicting one student's death per year. "She said that she Saw some out-of-season weather and that we should take the chance to bask in the sunlight."

So the first years trudged outside, clutching their cloaks around themselves as the cool wind fought to pull them away. Evariste conjured a few benches, which the students sat on as they looked around, trying to find Trelawney's alleged sunlight. Already shivering, Rose took an empty bottle from her bag and put a small magical flame in it, hoping that Evariste wouldn't see. If he noticed the flickers of red coming from near her feet, he said nothing.

They had just begun reviewing Dual-Stunning Spells when the wind really picked up. Evariste raised his voice, trying to speak above it, but his words were lost in the growing clamor. He pointed his wand to his throat, said a word that was lost in the wind, then tried to speak again. The students shook their heads; they could hear nothing. Regarding his wand curiously, Evariste began gesturing to the castle, trying to direct his class to head back.

Rose picked up her flame bottle only to see that the fire had gone out. Noting it as extremely odd- she had not extinguished it, and since the bottle was closed, it could not have been affected by the weather- she hurried to pack her book, which was very nearly taken by the increasing winds.

Though they rushed to pack, the first years were still outside when it began.

The howling winds centered over the Lake. It almost seemed like they had vanished entirely, if one ignored the swirling mass of black water beneath them. Suddenly, the Durmstrang ship gave a frightening lurch, then another, and a third. Alarmed students stuck their heads outside, only to lose hats, earmuffs, and scarves.

The ship continued to rock dangerously. Professor Ivanoff emerged first, looking around in wonder. Quickly, he called for his students and led them off the boat. Wands drawn, they barely managed to keep their footing as they rushed across the grounds.

The winds did not leave the empty ship be. It sounded like someone was taking a canon to the vessel; over and over again, large booms thundered through the grounds, causing the students to stumble back in alarm.

Hagrid had emerged from his house, carrying a long, thick oak wand that was larger than any Rose had seen before. She vaguely recalled her parents telling her that he had been granted use of his wand after the war, but she couldn't quite remember how he had lost use of it in the first place. Now he stood by the Abraxan, waving his wand violently as he spoke words no one could hear. There was no visible change to the winged horses' pen, which he was trying to draw protections around.

Parts of the immense ship were beginning to break off and tumble into the lake. Chunks of wood flew through the air, littering the grounds with the debris. Professor Evariste stood transfixed alongside his students, all thoughts of getting to safety gone. The – storm, Rose supposed she should call it, although it was no normal storm, was transfixing in the beauty of the winds and rain whipping through the air.

Something odd was happening to Rose. She felt as if a warm fire had been lit inside her chest. She touched below her neck and realized that the heat was coming from there. Pulling on the silver chain until she could see it properly, she realised that the Prewett locket that her parents had given her was growing hot.

It began searing her fingertips. She dropped it back above her robes and tried to lift the chain from around her neck, but an invisible hand that pressed the locket to her chest was holding it down.

Just then, the doors to the castle opened. Rafael emerged, shortly followed by Professor McGonagall. Eyes strangely barren of any emotion, he took quick strides past the other students and onto the grounds.

Professors Evariste and McGonagall both threw out their wands to draw him back, but nothing happened. Rose looked around; many people had their wands out and were murmuring spells under their breath, but none of the spells were working. She drew her own wand, pointed it at the ground, and muttered, "_Aguamenti_." It was the first spell that came to mind- she had been watching Dominique do her homework the day before and she had been describing the practical usage of the spell.

A small trickle of water fell from the end of her wand.

It was contrary to everything that should have happened in that moment- the spell she had never learned should not have worked, even in the slightest, _especially_ when everyone else's spells were failing. Rose glanced around; no one had noticed the small spurt of water where there should have been none.

Evariste looked to be concentrating on something intently. He closed his eyes and threw his hands out, palms facing towards the ship. Nothing.

The invisible hand that had been pressing the burning locket to Rose's chest lifted, and she automatically took a deep breath. But then the locket was lifting, tugging her forward with a force she could not resist. She stumbled out in front of the other students, feeling Albus' fingers try to clutch her robe, then slip away. Any words directed at her were lost in the din of the magical storm.

Rafael stood in the center of the open space, blank eyes affixed on his school's ship, which was falling to pieces. The winds had split- half attacked the Durmstrang ship, but the other half had begun to swirl around Rafael. He did not seem to notice his robes being torn apart by the vicious currents, nor did he feel them whipping at his body. Rose took another step forward, and her ears popped. The air around her was suddenly still, though she could see the winds raging outside of her protected bubble.

Rafael still stared ahead, no expression on his face. Rose's locket tugged her forward once more, and she saw that it was being drawn to Rafael. She touched his arm, and he jumped, as if burned. He looked from Rose to the ship and back, confused. "Vhat is… the ship…"

"Don't bother," she told him as he lifted his wand. "Your spells won't work, and I don't know anything strong enough to save it."

He looked down at her. "You? You are little girl. Vhy vould your spell vurk and my spell fail?" He returned his gaze to his ship and spoke a harsh word in a language Rose did not know. She felt a buzz go through the arm by which they were connected, and a small ball of light emerged from the tip of Rafael's wand.

"It's not enough," realized Rose, speaking her thoughts as they came to her. "The locket. It can fight this, but only a bit. You can't save the ship."

Rafael regarded her oddly. "You speak not your vurds," he said slowly. "No. You speak your vurds, but they are not…" He shook his head, unable to find the way to say what he meant.

Rose had a similar problem. There were no words to explain to him what she thought- that the storm was nullifying their spells and protections; that whatever spell was on the locket she wore was stronger than the one used to form the storm, but still not strong enough. Instead, she said, sounding far more calm than she felt, "We need to get back to the castle."

She had no problems walking, but Rafael looked like he was struggling to fight an invisible current. Rose saw the winds shift to envelop them; they tugged against her roes, her hair, and especially at the hand connecting her to Rafael. But she refused to release him, concentrating on Dmitri's panicked expression when his brother came out of the first task. She could not see her friend like that again, and certainly not because of her.

The locket still tugged at her neck, but less urgently, as if it knew she was walking out of the storm. With each step she took, waiting for Rafael to have the strength to take his, the locket fell to rest closer to her chest.

While they had been out on the field, the other students had been ushered inside. Only Professor McGonagall remained, straining to hold the door open. Once Rose and Rafael were both inside, the door slammed shut, and McGonagall leaned against it.

"Hospital Wing, both of you," she ordered wearily. "Now. Rafael, your headmaster will meet you there."

"Professor, I'm-"

"Not a word, Miss Weasley," said the headmistress firmly. "Hospital Wing."

The further Rose walked from the grounds, the cooler her locket grew. By the time she reached the Hospital Wing, the metal was cold and she was about ready to collapse.

Madame Chang showed them to adjoining cots. "Just lie here for a bit, dear," she said. "Professor McGonagall told me to wait until she arrived and examined you herself."

Rose closed her eyes to form a question- how had the message arrived so quickly?- and when they next opened, Albus and James were by her bedside. "What were you _thinking_?" hissed Albus, and it was one of the few times Rose had ever seen James looking somber. "You could have been killed!"

It did, indeed, feel like she had been trampled by a herd of Hippogriffs. She noticed that the light coming through the windows was significantly darker. That's odd, she thought. I don't remember falling asleep.

She took the locket out from beneath her robes, wincing as her aching muscles protested the movement. For all of the battering her body had taken, the locket looked untouched.

"No one's spells were working," she explained at a whisper, glancing around to make sure they wouldn't be overheard. Madame Chang was nowhere in sight, and Rafael looked to be asleep. "The locket started to heat up as soon as the storm started, and when I cast a spell, _it worked_."

"So you decided that was a sign you should go _into_ the storm?" said James disbelievingly.

"It wasn't just that," said Rose, quickly explaining Rafael's sudden appearance and blank stare. "No one's spells were working but mine, and then my locket was _pulling_ me toward him."

"That's mental," said James, "absolutely mental. Let me see the locket?"

Rose was certain that she wasn't going to be able to remove it, but it slipped easily over head and into James' hands. He examined it carefully, going as far as to poke it with his wand.

"Does that work in here?" asked Rose, looking at James' wand.

He shrugged, then shot red sparks across the room. "Suppose so," he said with a grin. "This is the Prewett locket, isn't it? I remember Mum talking about it. She never mentioned it doing anything special."

"D'you think Uncle Ron would've known if it did?" asked Albus skeptically.

"But Mum was there when he gave it to me," Rose reminded the brothers, "and she certainly would have."

They had just agreed to write to their parents asking for information when Professor McGonagall entered with Professor Ivanoff. McGonagall stopped at the end of Rose's bed, opened her mouth to speak, then froze. Lips still parted, she slowly looked over the scene. Rose lay in bed, and Albus and James knelt next to her. But it was all so familiar…

She shook her head as if to clear it. "Miss Weasley, would you like to explain yourself?"

Rose looked to the brothers, unsure of what to say. She hesitated to tell the truth about her locket- James was right, it _did_ sound crazy. "I'm sorry, Professor," she began. "I just…I'm really close to Dmitri, so when Rafael headed out there…" She realized that there was no proper way to explain her actions but the truth. She took the locket from James, ready to explain, but Professor McGonagall was nodding.

"That was very kind of you," she said quietly. "Incredibly foolish, but good-hearted. It's a miracle that neither of you was injured," she added, looking to Rafael, who was just coming around. His headmaster had taken a seat next to the cot. "That storm…"

"D'you know what caused it?" asked Rose, unable to contain the question any longer. "None of you could work magic, and it focused-"

"We know perfectly well what it focused on," said McGonagall quickly, a warning in her eyes. "It shall be taken care of. For now, the Durmstrang students will be staying here in the castle."

"Dmitri can stay with me," said James immediately. "He's closer to me and Lysander than those Slytherin blokes anyway."

"We will discuss sleeping arrangements at a later time," said McGonagall firmly. "For now, your cousinneeds to be examined by Madame Chang, and then she will need to rest."

As Albus leaned in to hug her, Rose whispered, "Find Dmitri and get him here. Ivanoff won't think to." He met her eyes in silent understanding.

Madame Chang seemed relieved to be able to examine Rose at last. "Nothing is broken," she said with a sigh, "but you may have some nasty bruises. Drink this," she ordered, handing Rose a glass of light pink liquid. "It's to make sure you don't have any internal injuries we should be worrying about."

When the examination was complete- three more potions and one suspicious puffed pastry later- Madame Chang announced that Rose was only slightly worse for the wear from her time in the storm. "Any extreme bruising and you come back to me," she said firmly. "You can spend the night here, if you prefer, or go back to your common room."

"I'll go back to my room," Rose decided quickly. She looked over to Rafael; Ivanoff was still by his bedside, conversing with his student in low tones.

On her way out, she found Albus and Dmitri hovering by the doorway. "We couldn't make it out of the Hall," explained Albus as Dmitri rushed inside. "He's going to be staying with James and Lysander. Some of the other Gryffindors tried to make a fuss, but it's hard to hate Dmitri."

They began walking back to Gryffindor Tower. "How did dinner go?" asked Rose, realising that she must have missed it.

"Not great," admitted Albus grimly. "The Durmstrang ship is completely destroyed. Everyone is pretty jumpy. The Beauxbatons students are worried about their carriage-"

"It wasn't even touched by the storm**!**" objected Rose.

"Exactly. Everyone _knows_ it was a blatant attack on the Durmstrang ship."

"Must have been an entirely uncomfortable meal." She could only imagine the surly Durmstrang students sitting in the Great Hall after such an attack. It was not a pretty picture.

They reached the seventh floor, where the Fat Lady was waiting for them. "I heard about what happened to the ship," she said, her warm voice low. "Absolutely dreadful. Do they know who was responsible for it?"

"Biddocus Bibble," said Albus, confusing Rose until the portrait swung open.

"I surely hope not!" the Fat Lady cried as Rose climbed through the portrait hole.

James was waiting in a corner of the common room, not reading the textbook that lay open on his lap. "I took some food from dinner," he said as Rose sat at the table. It was covered with an assortment of dinner rolls and meat pastries. "I knew that you wouldn't be fed anything decent in the Hospital Wing."

Albus and James talked about the storm as Rose began to eat**, **for once thankful of her cousin's experience in all matters of the Hospital Wing (after all, he'd been there enough after Qudditch). "It only affected a small area," mentioned Albus. "You were in the dungeons and couldn't hear a thing."

"I still can't believe Trelawney had you all out there," remarked James with amusement. "What a nut. Why did Evariste listen to her?"

"She's right some of the time, and he had no reason _not_ to."

"It was freezing!" exclaimed James. "I'd still like to know exactly what she saw that warranted your class being out there."

Rose had to wonder the same thing. The Divination teacher had been right about one thing- the weather had indeed been remarkably out-of-season. Exhausted, Rose finished eating and went directly to bed. Before shutting her eyes, she made sure that she was wearing her locket. As she had on her first night at Hogwarts, she fell asleep with one hand wrapped around it.

Everyone had expected changes, but not so soon after the incident. "Students will go directly to their classes," announced Professor McGonagall over breakfast the next morning. "When not in class, students will be in their common rooms. All Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students will attend lessons with Hogwarts seventh years. Your respective heads have your schedules."

Due to his age, Dmitri was left in all of James' classes. Rafael scowled at the announcement, because it meant he could no longer walk with his younger brother to his classes. "We'll watch out for Dmitri," promised James, but it did not seem to sooth Rafael's worries.

Only once did he bring up what had happened in the storm. He waited for Rose to arrive at lunch the next day, then pulled her aside.

"I vant to thank you," he said seriously. "Vhat you did vas very kind. You vere not needing to, but you did."

"It wasn't a big deal," replied Rose honestly. "I just… did it."

Rafael never mentioned it again, but Rose thought about it often. She poured over every detail with Albus and James in the common room each night, always stopping as soon as Dmitri arrived. They trusted him, but it just didn't seem right to have him in the conversations.

"Rafael didn't even stop when he walked outside," recounted Rose one evening after Dmitri had gone to bed. She too was exhausted, but there was something still nagging her about the storm. She fiddled with her locket absently as she spoke "His eyes were blank, like… like he had been Confounded!" she realized. "James, you and Dmitri were in Potions at that point, weren't you?"

"Yes," he said uneasily. "Rose, what are you getting at?"

"If Rafael walked Dmitri to class," she continued, feeling as if she had finally solved the puzzle, "then Rafael was in the dungeons too! And who do we know is _in _the dungeons?"

"If you're getting at the Slytherins-" Albus began.

"It was Alistair again!" concluded Rose with conviction. "Alistair in Foreign Studies, Alistair in the corridor, Alistair in the Box, and _Alistair in the storm!_"

James and Albus exchanged a glance. "It's possible," allowed Albus, "but really, why-"

"It's perfect!" exclaimed Rose. Why were they not seeing what she was seeing? "Attack the Durmstrang ship, then bewitch Rafael so he's caught in the middle of the storm- which makes it so no one's magic works, so no one can save him!"

"Save whom?" asked Lysander, coming to sit with them. "Rose, I got this out of the library. Thought you might be interested."

She did not ask how Lysander had managed to get into the library when by the new rules, students had to be in a classroom, the Great Hall, or their common room at all times. The book was already open to a page with an illustration of a storm ripping apart a small house. She watched as chunks of the roof flew away, then reappeared as the image repeated itself.

_Magical storms can be fashioned in many ways,_ she read. _It is not recommended to mix magic with weather, as disastrous results may occur. One of the most difficult storms to brew is the Delaney variety, named for the witch who invented it during the Dark Ages. This storm, limited to a small area, nullifies any existing spells and makes it impossible to lay or cast new spells or protections while it is in effect._

"This is it," she said, looking up from the book. There wasn't a doubt in her mind- Alistair had conjured a Delaney storm. "Everything is here: the limited area, the nullification of established spells, everything."

Lysander looked over at the book. "A student would have a terrible time whipping one of these up," he commented, meeting Rose's gaze. "He would have to be pretty powerful."

At that moment, Rose knew that Lysander understood her theory and agreed with it. It was good to have someone on her side.

Unfortunately, it wasn't enough. Knowing in her heart that she was correct wasn't the same as having the power to do something about it. She watched Alistair closely as he passed her on the way to class, memorizing the names and face of the students he was with. There were the burly Payne brothers; tall and lean James Baena; short and round Zachary Estrada; and others who came and went with the days.

There were complications in rebuilding the Durmstrang ship. Professor McGonagall took a team of teachers out to inspect what remained of it the day after the storm, but the general consensus was that there was too much magic in the pieces to put it back together with a spell.

"I won't dance around it," Professor Evariste told his class the next week. "You were all there. You know there was magic in that storm. Now, that magic mixed with the spells that had already been used on and around the ship- and those were numerous. A simple spell will not be enough to repair the damage. Yes, Miss Marsh?"

"If they can't put it back together, will they have to make a new ship?" asked Tia Marsh curiously. "I mean, how did they do it in the first place? Did they take a Muggle ship and bewitch it?"

The spent the rest of the lesson discussing the pros, cons, and legal limitations of bewitching Muggle objects. Rose blushed as Professor Evariste brought up a hypothetical situation involving a flying car. She glanced at Albus, who was grinning; they were both remembering a story their fathers had told them about their time at Hogwarts.

The other teachers seemed more reluctant to discuss the storm than Professor Evariste. In Transfiguration, Professor Randor showed one of his rare fits of emotion and wouldn't let the subject go.

"Miss Patil, do you really believe that the incident with the Durmstrang ship has anything to do with Transfiguration?"

"Well-"

"Tell me, anyone, is it possible to Transfigure one state of weather into an entirely new one?"

Rose's hand was the only one that went up. "No," she said once Professor Randor had called on her. "According to Riley's Second Law of Transfiguration, one state of weather cannot be Transfigured into another."

"That is correct," said the teacher with a nod. It was a sign of his disapproval of the topic that he did not award Gryffindor points for the answer. "Now, water may be turned into something else- say, pebbles." He took a mug from his desk, flipped it over, and out tumbled a mass of small rocks. "It cannot, however, be turned into rain. Tell me why."

Once again, Rose had the answer. "Rain is essentially water, just spread apart and falling," she answered. "You would need a spell to induce movement, not just a Transfiguration."

After the lesson, Rose and Albus gathered their books (which had remained untouched during the double lesson) and headed to the third floor for Charms. "I suppose it makes sense," said Albus, "but why can't you turn water into pebbles, then the pebbles into rain, or wind?"

"It still involves direction," explained Rose, automatically hopping over a trick stair that turned your leg blue if you stepped on it. "You can't Transfigure something into motion- you can turn a flying bird into a rock, but you can't turn a rock into a flying bird. Flying is a motion, a state of being, not a physical element of an object."

It had actually been one of the more interesting Transfiguration classes they had had, Rose was disappointed to realise. In their regular lessons, they had barely progressed past altering color and size, which Rose knew could more easily be achieved using an Engorgement Charm.

She often sat in the common room with Albus and James and worked on Transfiguring objects around them. That was a challenge- books were tricky because the words tended to stick around long after their pages had disappeared. Her greatest achievement thus far had been turning a book on magical birds into a duck whose back read "quack".

They arrived at Charms class, still discussing the ship. "I reckon Flitwick could put it back together with one of his charms," joked Albus as they sat. "Look at all of the stuff he's done!" He pointed to the wall behind where Flitwick usually stood.

Rose had never noticed, but the wall behind Flitwick's podium was decorated with marks of his accomplishments. Proudly on display were an assortment of colorful certificates, metals, and right in the middle of them all, hanging from a plain black string-

A key.


	8. The Yule Ball

"Albus!" hissed Rose anxiously. "Albus, that's the key!"

It was nearly identical to Lorcan's drawing. The key was ornate and a dull silver, and bore a pair of limp blue wings. There was nothing to indicate why it was hanging on the wall with all of Flitwick's treasures and other accolades.

"Wait, _that_'s the key you and Lorcan have been looking for?" asked Albus with a laugh. "Rose, that's been there all year!"

The more she looked at it, the less sure she was. The key from Lorcan's drawing hadn't, in fact, had those wings, nor had it looked quite so battered. But the shape was the same, and it was the only key Rose had ever seen in the castle, as most doors functioned with spells or passwords, not physical locks. It had to be the key.

Professor Flitwick waddled into the room, pulled himself onto his platform, and began the lesson. Rose did her best to concentrate, but her eyes kept drifting back to the key. She toyed with the Finder, which she had kept in her bag in case she needed it. She was tempted to try it out during the lesson, but thought that it might attract unwanted attention if a key flew at her from across the room while Professor Flitwick talked about the importance of Hover Charms.

As the bell rang, she suddenly made up her mind. "Distract Flitwick for a minute," she mutteredto Albus, running her fingers along the smooth surface of the Finder. "I'm getting the key."

Albus looked like he had a reply formed, but Rose leapt up before he could say it. She had debated over taking the key, then decided that if it wasn't the right one, she could always bring it back with no harm done. And it wasn't like she was nicking anything important, just a dusty old key that no one would miss.

Rose waited until Albus had Flitwick's attention, then casually crossed the room. Standing a few feet away from the wall, she brought the Finder to her lips and inhaled, half hoping that nothing would happen. Ignoring her silent wishes, the key jerked off the wall and flew towards Rose's face. She brought the Finder away from her teeth just before the key slammed into it with a metallic clink.

She quickly stowed both key and Finder in her pocket; she could examine it later. Grabbing her bag, she stood by the door, waiting for Albus to wrap up his conversation with the professor.

"Thank you, sir," he said, obviously relieved to get away. "I'll keep practicing."

Rose grinned exuberantly as soon as they stepped into the hallway. "The Finder worked!" she whispered gleefully. "I got the key!"

"I don't know what you're so happy about," grumbled Albus. He hated speaking to teachers by himself, and still shuddered when anyone reminded him of Flitwick's reaction to him at the beginning of the school year. "You still haven't even found the door it goes to, have you?"

"No," she retorted, "but we will soon." She wondered what kind of Hogwarts door would operate using an old-fashioned key. They were popular enough in the Muggle world, but at Hogwarts?

She waved Lorcan over to the Gryffindor table as he entered the Great Hall for dinner. Wordlessly, she handed him the key, which she had been showing to James.

His eyes lit. "Brilliant," he said, "absolutely brilliant! Did the Finder work, then?"

"Yes, but I found it on my own," she said proudly. "Well, actually, Albus found it, but I recognized it and took it straight from Flitwick's wall."

"I wasn't expecting the wings," admitted Lorcan. "Does it fly?" He dropped the key, and it fell to the floor with a clang. "I guess not. Did you say Flitwick's wall?"

"It was hanging right there," she said, nodding.

Lorcan's lips pursed, and he picked up the key and looked at it curiously. "I wonder… Rose, you'd better hold onto it for now. You know how I am with losing things."

He had a point. Lorcan had once lost an entire set of Wizarding encyclopedias over the course of an afternoon. They would pop up at the oddest times- Rose had found letter _Y_ being used as a shield during a garden gnome battle a few days before she had left for Hogwarts.

"We'll search for the door over Christmas Break," continued Lorcan. Unlike most of the younger students, he and his brother were staying at Hogwarts over break while their parents toured the Amazon.

Rose sat in her room that night, helping Tia Marsh pack her bags. They debated over what she needed to bring- "I have other clothes at home, and we'll be visiting with my Muggle relatives most of the time anyway," said Tia, who ended up leaving all but one of her robes in the dresser. Rose taught the other girls some of the folding and sorting spells that her mother used, and before they knew it, they had four perfectly-packed suitcases.

The Hogwarts Express left the Hogsmeade station the next morning, carrying most of the younger students and the older students who were not interested in attending the Yule Ball. Glad to be free of the normal rules, Rose spent hours in the library, searching for any mention of Trijuska. Sometimes Lysander accompanied her and helped look through the mountains of books.

The castle seemed a lot more private with so many of its students gone. Rose and Albus went exploring with Dmitri, who had never officially toured the grounds. They considered taking a trip into the Forbidden Forrest, but the first snowfall had finally arrived- "I was starting to think that it wasn't going to snow at all," joked James as they watched the first flurries from the Gryffindor common room. He had experience with the Forbidden Forest, and (as he told his younger relations quite emphatically) knew that the Forest was no fun the minute snow became involved.

Rafael had come to stay with the Gryffindors, some of whom weren't altogether thrilled with his presence. As was typical of the Durmstrang champion, though, he mostly kept to himself, opting for an out-of-the-way chair by the wall where he could read a book or write a letter.

"He writes to Mama and Papa," explained Dmitri one afternoon as he caught Rose glance over to Rafael, who was laying out his writing supplies. "They cannot go here, see, so he tells them vhat ve do."

One activity that the entire group could participate in was wizards' chess. Lysander, the resident aficionado, was appalled when Dmitri announced that he had never heard of the game. "You don't play it where you come from?" he asked, aghast.

"No, ve have other game, naming Magheshna. It is not the same," he decided, watching Lysander set up the pieces, "but perhapsing I teach you a time."

Lysander made it his personal goal to teach Dmitri how to play before break was over. Rose even dug out the set her mother had given her, mahogany pieces with amber stone inlays. The queen's crown was made of mother-of-pearl, and though the set was not expensive, it was exquisite.

The common room only increased in volume with the addition of the games. Two were running simultaneously, which made four sets of screaming chess pieces trying to tell their masters what to do.

"What part of this are you not understanding?" one of Dmitri's pieces asked him furiously after his comrade was smashed off the side of the table. "They are knocking us dead!"

"Quiet, you." ordered Lysander as one of Albus' pieces gave a bloodcurdling battle cry and lunged towards Rose's remaining knight.

It was during one of these lessons that Rafael put down his quill and came to stand behind his brother. Lysander ignored him, concentrating on the game at hand.

"Vhy he cannot use all pawns to protect king?" asked Rafael as Dmitri decided on his next move. "No vay to get through them. Building a vall."

"Such an impasse is impossible to reach," explained Lysander patiently. "Your other pieces would be picked off, then you'd have to start moving the pawns. Beginners often try one of two strategies- radically aggressive, or radically defensive. Neither will work. Chess is all about balance. You can't put yourself in check," he said to Dmitri, before his pieces had a chance to protest his latest move. "Try again."

Rafael sat in one of the plush armchairs by the blazing fire and observed the rest of the game. Lysander hid nothing- he explained every move as he made it, as well as the strategy and rules surrounding his decision. His pieces knew him well enough to keep quiet, though they couldn't resist gloating when he took Dmitri's queen. Finally, when the game had ended, he looked up at Rafael.

"Do you want to learn? Dmitri can switch off and work with James for a bit."

"I vould like to learn," nodded Rafael, taking his brother's chair as Dmitri ran to sit by James, eager to start a new game.

Rose knew Lysander's background with chess. As a child, she had often watched as he and Lorcan attempted to disenchant a set of wizards' chess pieces. They would sit for hours as the pieces told them, "That move is _illegal_, you can't put me _there_." But the twins fought to out-logic the magic that had been used on the set. And pawn by pawn, rule by rule, they had won.

That set now sat in their shared room back at the Scamander house. "It's a trophy of achievement," said Lorcan with pride when Rose brought up the topic. "Utterly useless now, but perfectly practical experience."

Christmas Eve continued to drift closer until it was only a day away. Seeing how it was the night prior to the Yule Ball, most of the students went to bed early, aiming to pack in a few extra hours of sleep. Rose, however, remained awake with the others as they played chess.

"Check," said Rose proudly, flashing a triumphant grin at Albus.

He winced theatrically. "So close, but not quite, " he said, a falsely mournful not in his voice. "Bishop to h2. Check, and mate."

Scowling, Rose glared down at the board and saw her mistake. "Don't let Mayra see you gloating like that tomorrow night," she said bitterly. "Speaking of which, you really should get rest."

"I'll sleep late tomorrow," said Albus dismissively, "and who are you to judge? You're a girl. Shouldn't you be getting your beauty sleep?"

She rolled her eyes and ignored the jab. "Rafael, who did you decide to go with?" she asked, realizing that she didn't know. He was a private person and kept mostly quiet during their lessons.

The older boy shrugged, scowling down at the board as Rose had done moments before. "I go stag," he said absently. "This is a silly game."

Rose's eyebrows came together. "Don't you have to take someone?" she asked, confused. "As a champion and all?"

"For the opening dance," clarified Lysander when Rafael looked up, as confused as Rose. "It's a tradition. The champions and their partners open the ball with a dance."

"No vun told me of this dance," said Rafael slowly. "You mean to say, I must taking girl to Yule Ball tomorrow night?" They all nodded slowly. "But I have no such girl!"

His expression was such that Rose nearly laughed. For all the time she had known him- for both times they had been in the Hospital Wing together- she had never seen his face contort it quite that way.

The portrait hole swung open, and a ruffled Victoire climbed through. She strode straight across the common room to the fireplace and threw a handful of crumpled parchment into the flames. Only when the parchment had turned to ashes did she spin and face the inquisitive looks of the others.

"Good evening," she addressed them formally. "What are you all doing up so late?"

"Victoire, you're going to the ball, aren't you?" asked Rose suddenly, an idea sparking in her head.

Cautiously, Victoire said, "Yes, I am. Molly and I are going together. Why?"

"Would you consider going with Rafael?" As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Rose knew they had been a mistake. Her cousin's eyes turned cold, and she obtained a mulish set to her mouth that Rose was certain Fleur had never seen.

Lysander hurried to repair the damage of Rose's words. "Just as mates, of course," he amended quickly. "See, Rafael was not told about the opening dance, and doesn't have someone to go with. McGonagall is going to be furious if he shows up alone."

Victoire tilted her head up, sniffed, then said, "Just one dance? Only as friends?"

"I vould not have it other," said Rafael gravely. "I have love back home. You no vorry about Rafael."

"Alright," she said, looking like a valiant martyr. "For the good of the ball. Now, I must retire. Sleep well, all of you."

Rose repressed her laughter until after her cousin had swept from the room. "That is vay to make vomen agree," advised Rafael, looking from his younger brother to the other boys in the room. "Make her feel whole vorld vill break vithout her."

"I didn't know you were in love," remarked Rose, packing up her chess set. Victoire was right; it was getting late.

"I am not," said Rafael simply. When Rose looked up at him, he crooked a smile. "That is how you get girl to be friend. Tell her you are in love. She vill have no romance thoughts."

Rose knew that "romance thoughts" towards Rafael would be the last thing on Victoire's mind, but the technique worked. Victoire walked through the castle all the next day with the same martyred expression on her face. Rose wondered if her cousin would keep the act up through the Ball, but when Victoire emerged from her room that night, she was no less than radiant.

"I am very much honored," said Rafael seriously, kissing the hand Victoire offered as he bowed. ("Now _that_ is a bloke Madame Maxime would be proud of," Lysander whispered to Rose.) "It vill do me much pleasure to have your hand in the dance."

Victoire, looking much like a swan in her soft white dress robes, took Rafael's arm before exiting the common room. Lysander fell into one of the chairs but the fire and picked up a book. "Albus, James, and Dmitri are still getting ready," he said, thumbing through the pages. "Something with Albus' hair. You might want to wait downstairs."

Before stepping through the portrait hole, Rose took a moment to steady herself. She knew that she would be one of the only first years attending the ball, which was enough to cause a small bit of panic. She hadn't spent much time getting ready- she had popped into Victoire's room long enough to borrow a few hair pins, then had run away before her cousin could rope her into helping with the elaborate up do she was creating.

Ron had sent the dress robes and a letter expression just how thrilled he was to hear that his eldest child was going to the Yule Ball. _Your mum and I picked these out together. I wanted to get the ones that changed colours, but she said they would be too much. We settled for these instead._

Rose was grateful for her mum's input. She was draped in simple, shimmering golden fabric that fell to the floor in gentle folds that caught and held the light. She smoothed down the silky fabric before climbing through the portrait hole.

The entrance hall was packed with people waiting for their dates. Victoire was on Rafael's arm, smiling and nodding to Molly Weasley, who wore robes of dark blue and a serious expression. The other champions stood nearby, watching people file into the Great Hall.

Suddenly, Dmitri appeared at the top of the main staircase, flanked by Al bus and James. Dmitri wore a precise miniature of his brother's outfit- he was clad in deep, blood-red robes that were accented in dark grey. They were of a finer material than their normal school uniforms, which were made of thick wools and fleeces. Albus, Rose noticed incredulously,had managed to comb his hair into some sort of form, and his green eyes shifted nervously around the hall. Both brothers wore deep black robes trimmed with gold piping and accented with scarlet cuffs on their sleeves.

Dmitri grinned as they reached Rose. "You are very pretty," he complimented. "Vould you vant to enter now?"

Rose looked to Albus and James. "You two will be alright until the Howells arrive?" she asked, mainly for Albus' sake. He was glancing around nervously, his hands clutched together.

James ran a hand through his hair. "We'll be fine," he said, running a hand through his hair. "We'll meet you two inside."

It was a struggle to be confident when Rose was surrounded by floods of older students, taller and in the girls' case, usually wearing considerably tighter robes. Many turned to look at the Durmstrang champion's younger brother, and by the time they reached their seats, her face was tinged pink.

"Do not blush," said Dmitri, coming to sit next to her. "They stare not at you. You do very vell."

It was easier to relax once Albus and James entered. The Howell sisters stood in an almost comic contrast to the young boys; they were tall for their years, and their blonde hair stood out sharply from the Potters' dark locks.

When they arrived at the table, a round of introductions was made. Dmitri had the girls laughing within two minutes, relievingthe tension considerably,but then it was time for the champions to enter.

The first couple was Mariette Croisseux and a Beauxbatons boy who was wearing a perfectly polished grin. Mariette wore her dark brown hair in a traditional French style that Rose had seen Victoire and Fleur wear, piled atop one side of her head and cascading down past her shoulder.

Next came Rafael and Victoire, who looked absolutely stunning**, **her veela charms silencing the room in awe. The Howells sighed in envy as she passed, her feet barely touching the floor. Rafael was surly-faced until he saw Dmitri's laughing face; then he cracked a rare grin.

Finally, Alistair Trimble entered with a beautiful girl Rose did not recognize. She had smooth olive-toned skin and rich black hair that tumbled down her back in curls. Her almond eyes were a deep hazel that shimmered in the light of the magical candles.

"Who is _she_?" Rose asked James, who had ended up next to her.

He saw where she was looking. "Lisana Blackwell. Her sister's in your year, isn't she?"

Now that it had been pointed out to her, Rose did indeed see a vague family resemblance between Rafael's companion and Odessa Blackwell, an unpleasant Slytherin girl. It had to be something in the skin tone or hair colour; Odessa had neither the striking physique nor the ability to command attention from a room that her elder sister did.

A calm, melodic piece began as the three couples spun around the room. Victoire's overwhelming grace made up for Rafael's lack; Mariette and her partner danced a slight variation of what the other pairs executed, adding an extra turn every few steps; Alistair and Lisana were both surprisingly good**,** moving around the room as if floating on a thin sheet of water that pulled their feet along in an effortless, fluid movement.

A band was set up on a stage by the wall. One of the members was not playing; Rose assumed that he was not fluent in cello as well as guitar, one of which lay by his feet. But then the tips of his hair began to turn green- streaks of emerald were shooting through his brown hair- his face was shifting in hurried, jerking motions-

Everyone was too busy watching the dancers to notice the guitarist's transformation. Rose was about to point him out to James, but then she recognized the cut of the hair, the thrice-broken nose, the thin set of the lips. It was Teddy Lupin.

No, it was a very _unhappy_ Teddy Lupin, corrected Rose mentally. There was no mistaking the set of his mouth, the flexing of his fingers, but most obviously, the vines of jealousy that had snaked their way through his hair.

There was also no mistaking his girlfriend in the center of the room, dancing with someone else.

The song drew to a finish and everyone applauded as the couples bowed to each other. Concentration shifted to Kingsley Shacklebolt; no one but Rose noticed Teddy hop off the side of the stage and cross the Hall. He stopped beside Victoire for a moment- their eyes locked, and he wore an expression of betrayal. Not waiting for her to speak, he continued walking and exited the room.

Victoire looked torn. Molly, sitting at a table nearby, shot her a look of reproachful disapproval. Ignoring it, Victoire followed Teddy without another moment's hesitation.

Rose fought her curiosity- she wanted to follow them, but she would be noticed getting up from her table. Besides, Kingsley was opening the Ball.

"I think we can all agree, that was a lovely opening dance," he said, and the room clapped once more. "Now, I would like to call the champions and their partners to the head table so that we may begin the feast."

Rafael glanced around in search of Victoire, but the other champions had begun walking towards the dais. He followed and sat next to Ivanoff, not seeming disturbed by Victoire's disappearance.

As the sparkling crystal platters on Rose's table filled with food, she eyed out her route around the corners of the hall. She slid away from the table and concentrated on looking casual as she crossed the room. No one stopped her as she reached the main doors and slid through.

There was no sign of Teddy or Victoire. A cold breeze blew through the entry doors- at closer inspection, Rose saw that they were open a crack.

Stepping outside, Rose was met by frigid winds that whipped at the hem of her robes. Victoire and Teddy were still nowhere in sight. Thinking she saw movement, Rose walked towards the Quidditch pitch. It was lit only by moonlight, the rings only faint outlines against the inky sky.

A figure flew through the sky, the moon's glow catching his hair. Rose stopped where she was to watch as the small boy flew. His form, agile and smooth, turned a circle in the air-

And plummeted towards the ground.

Rose shrieked, unable to hold the sound in as he boy made a smooth line towards the snow. The outline of the broom gave a startled jerk, and five feet above the ground, the boy toppled off.

She ran onto the center of the field where the figure had landed, pulling her wand out as she went., "_Lumos_," she said, lighting the tip of her wand with a magical ball of light. It illuminated the snow as she crushed it beneath her feet, rushing to get to the form on the snow.

Her light fell upon the boy's face as he struggled to sit up, clutching his side. It was Scorpius Malfoy.

"Are you okay?" Rose cried, kneeling next to him. "You fell from nearly…" She tried to remember how tall the rings were- he had been almost level with them when he had plummeted down- but could not. Albus or James would have been able to tell her in an instant.

"I'm fine," he groaned, now fully upright. It was the first time Rose had heard him speak; his voice was soft, his tone reserved. "And I wasn't falling."

She raised her brows at the unexpected response. "Well, clearly you were," she said, turning her head to the side and surveying his current position**.**

"I was practicing a dive," he corrected. "I only started falling when you screamed."

Rose felt a blush creep up her cheeks. "Oh, I'm… er… sorry about that," she said finally.

Simultaneously, they realized that they were kneeling in the snow. They both rose, dusting snowflakes from their knees. Rose looked down at the bottom of her dress robes and groaned. They were soaked.

"Aren't you supposed to be at the Yule Ball?" asked Scorpius as Rose wracked her brain for a spell to dry her robes.

"I _am_," she said, tapping her wand against her leg as she thought.

"Ah." After a moment, he said, "D'you think siphoning the water out would work?"

Rose huffed. She didn't want to take his advice, but the pale gold fabric was beginning to stick to her legs, and the crisp wind bore a nasty chill. "I think I'll just warm up for a bit," she said at last, using her foot (she silently thanked her mother for thinking to put a Water-Repelling Charm on her dress shoes before sending them) to clear a patch of snow. When there was enough room, she pointed her wand down.

"_Rosa Inflarum_," she said, shooting a red flame from the tip of her wand. Scorpius took an instinctive step back, nearly stumbling over his discarded broom. The fire spread over the cleared patch of grass, filling it to the snowy brim.

Scorpius watched, transfixed by the flames. The red light of the magical fire threw his face into harsh relief, turning his smooth skin into sharp, almost cruel planes. His pale complexion took in the color of the flames, turning his nearly white hair a deep pink.

"It's perfectly safe," Rose told him as he regarded the fire warily. "See? It's not even melting the snow."

Indeed, though the fire was radiating waves of heat, the snow was not melting. Rose stepped closer so that her robes were almost in the flames.

"It can't burn anything," she continued. "It's just heat."

"Did your mum-" began Scorpius, then stopped himself. "Never mind."

They continued drying themselves in silence. Eventually, Scorpius stepped closer to the fire, even nudging it with his foot at one point.

"Where did you get the broom?" Rose asked as she felt the hem of her robes- they were nearly dry. "First years aren't allowed to have their own."

"I borrowed one of the school's," he muttered. "I wouldn't have lost control at the end like that if I had been on my own."

Rose thought back to the second week of school. "For someone with their own broom, you sure didn't fly a lot at the lesson," she pointed out.

"Neither do you."

"I don't fly," she said flatly.

"Neither do I." He picked up the broom, which Rose now recognized as one of the school's. It looked like what Albus used to practice- as a second year, James had been permitted to bring his own to school.

Rose pointed her wand at the scarlet fire. "_Finite Incantatum_," she said, and the flames blew out as if a strong breeze had swept across the snow.

Scorpius nodded his approval; the spell had been very clean. "Heading back to the Ball?"

"Oh, bugger," she muttered. "That. Yes, I suppose."

Under an unspoken agreement, Rose and Scorpius walked back to the castle together. They both glanced around upon entering the entrance hall. No one was there, but a dull roar was coming from the Great Hall.

They stopped just outside the enormous doors of the hall, neither knowing what to say. Their exchange on the Quidditch pitch hardly seemed real; the memory was aglow with the light of the red flames bouncing off the crystalline snow. They looked at each other, unsure of how to proceed.

"Sorry, again," Rose began. "About the broom."

"Don't mention it," replied Scorpius with an uncomfortable shrug. "I should get back-"

"Me too."

"Well…" He gave a half-hearted wave, then turned and walked towards the stairs that led to the dungeons.

Rose entered the Hall to find the room full of students and teachers alike, their colorful robes swirling as they danced. Albus sat at the table were Rose had left him. He was having an animated conversation with Dmitri, who was waving a stick of celery around to prove a point.

The boys looked up as Rose sat. "Where were you?" asked Albus wearily. "Do I even want to know?"

"I'm sorry I disappeared," Rose apologised to Dmitri. "I wanted to see if Victoire was okay."

"No, it is good," said Dmitri with a smile. "Albus and I, ve have fun. Vhat happened to Victoire?""

Rose explained how Teddy had seen Victoire dancing with Rafael and gotten upset. "I went to see if she had found him," she said, suddenly feeling quite foolish.

Albus raised a brow. "You were being nosy," he accused. "Did you get lost? You missed dinner."

His eyes widened as Rose recounted her discussion with Scorpius. "You were talking with mini-Malfoy?" he hissed.

"It was weird," admitted Rose, "but he was actually pretty nice. He could have been furious- I basically knocked him off his broom."

"From five feet in the air," scoffed Albus. "If he had any skill on a broom at all, he wouldn't have gotten spooked like that."

Dmitri took a bite from the end of his celery stick- though the meal had ended, chopped vegetables and bowls of fruit remained. "Who is this Malfoy?" he asked curiously.

"Scorpius is the son of someone our parents… did not get along with while at school," said Rose. "Albus is annoyed that I actually had a conversation with him instead of acting like he has the plague."

It wasn't like Albus to be so close minded. Rose tapped her fingers on the table, growing frustrated. He hadn't been thrilled to find out that she had paired off with Scorpius during Potions, but that had been a knee-jerk reaction.

"Why are you acting like this?" she asked, almost worried. "You're reacting like James would."

Albus sighed, bringing his hands to his head. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm not feeling very well. I have this blinding headache…"

"Go to bed," she insisted. "Marya will survive without you."

But at that moment, Marya Howell appeared beside the table. "Come dance with me," she said, laying a hand on Albus' shoulder. "Opal and James are already out there."

Putting on his best people-are-staring-at-me smile, Albus rose and offered Marya his arm. Rose and Dmitri were left at the table, munching on the vegetables.

"I'm sorry, did you want to dance?" Rose asked Dmitri, feeling guilty for going awol on him. "We could, if you wanted to."

Dmitri looked away, embarrassed. "I cannot really dance," he admitted. "Ve could try, if you are vanting to…"

"No, that's fine!" said Rose, relieved., "I've never danced before either."

They sat and watched the various couples dance. Madame Maxime had found Hagrid and they were two-stepping around the edge of the room, doing their best to circumscribe the students. James and Albus were with the Howells in the center of a group of people. Albus was holding his own, only occasionally glancing down at his feet.

"Aunt Ginny put all of her children through Fauna's Dance Lessons," said Rose as James spun Opal Howell, who laughed with delight. "James is actually surprisingly graceful. Albus is better suited for a broom."

"I see him fly," said Dmitri. "He is very good. They have little sister, no?"

"Lily, yes. She's coming to school in two years."

"I vish I be able to meet her." He frowned, continuing. "I vill come back, I decide."

The ball began to wind down towards midnight. Rafael finally broke away from the head table, where Professor Ivanoff had been chewing his ear off for the past four hours.

"He vould not be silent," he groaned, sitting next to Dmitri. "Vhere did Victoire go to?"

"She had a bit of a personal emergency," explained Rose. "Her boyfriend was here and saw you two dancing and misunderstood."

"Ah," he said, utterly unconcerned. "Vell, she tell him that I have lover at my home. He no vorry about Rafael."


	9. A Mysterious Illness

Christmas was a more subdued event than Rose had expected. Albus' headache from the previous night had only gotten worse. A host of other symptoms now plagued him, including a rapidly mounting fever.

Rose and James brought the celebration to Albus' bedside, where he was confineddue to extreme dizziness that struck each time he stood. They sat around playing chess- Rose was thrashed by James- and talking about the Ball.

James' reaction was as Rose had expected. "I still can't believe you stayed around long enough to _talk_ to him," he said with disgust. "I wasn't sure he even could talk. He's got a stupid look about him, don't you think?"

Rose rolled her eyes and did not respond. Scorpius had been nothing but polite to her, so she saw no need to be rude.

This thought did not seem to occur to James. "I hear he has an arranged marriage to Tomasa Kerpbow," he continued, blocking Rose's knight with ease. "Wouldn't that be just like the Malfoys?"

"I don't see how you'd know," said Rose absently, concentrating on the board, "seeing how you've never actually spoken to one before."

"He's not wizard enough to face me," muttered James, but then he let the subject drop.

Albus pointed his wand at the pile of sweets piled on the foot of the bed. They had been sent by Ron, though about half of them were prank candies. Albus murmured something indistinct, gave his wand a swish and flick, and a chocolate frog rose unsteadily from the pile.

"I've got it, Al," James offered, grabbing the frog and tossing it to his brother, who nodded his thanks.

"You really need to keep drinking water," said Rose, frowning at the full glass by his bedside. "You've got to flush out this cold before classes start up again."

"Aw, don't harp on him," said James. "It's Christmas! We'll take him to see Madame Chang tomorrow. She'll give him some Pepperup Potion and he'll be as good as new. You lost, by the way."

Rose returned to her dormitory to change before supper- one of the candies had been filled with a drippy jam that spilled all down her front. Her spells had managed to reduce the mess to a small, sticky stain, but she hated looking sloppy.

On her way back down, she spotted Lysander nestled in a chair by the fire. "Happy Christmas," she greeted him. "I haven't seen you all day."

"I was up reading until this morning," he admitted, flipping the page. "I'm doing research for Lorcan, actually. It's quite interesting…"

"Have fun," she said, glancing at the cover of the book he held- _Events Leading to the Second Wizarding War_. "Tell me if that one's any good."

Wondering why Lorcan wanted to learn about the pre-war era, Rose climbed back to the door marked First Years. "It's me," she said, reentering. "James, are you-"

James lay flat on his back, sprawled across the floor. One of his hands was splayed over his face. The chess board lay abandoned by his side.

"This must be what dying feels like," he groaned.

"What happened?" Rose asked, startled and looking to Albus. "He was fine when I left!"

"He's got whatever I have," wheezed Albus, his dry voice cracking. "Go to dinner. It may be contagious."

Rose hurried to Albus' bedside and lay a hand on his forehead. "You're still burning up. Here." She pointed her wand at the half-empty glass. "_Aguamenti_."

Nothing. She tried once more, with no result. It wasn't exactly a surprise- the spell was far too advanced for a first year, but after her minor success during the storm, she had cause to hope.

There was one more thing she could try. Wrapping her hand around the locket, she whispered, "_Aguamenti._"

Nothing.

"I'll bring back whatever food I can," she sighed. "James, can you get yourself to a bed?"

He grunted. "I'll take that as a no," she said. Briefly she considered levitating him onto a bed in Albus' dorm, but she could only just make a book hover in the air, and had no hope of actually moving a human body around."Just… rest."

The Great Hall had once again switched decorations. Light flurries of snow fell over all of the tables, dissolving into the air before they reached the dishes of food. It was less full than on the days preceding the ball- in fact, there was a noticeable difference at all of the tables.

"Happy Christmas, Rose," said Lorcan, sitting across from her. "Where are Albus and James?"

"Sick," she responded, "incredibly so. Do either of you know a good way to break a fever?" Though intelligent she was, a Healer she was not.

Lysander looked up from his book. "Nonmagically, I'd say water," he said. "I don't really know any healing spells." He paused, then added, "They should really teach those here, shouldn't they?"

They brought as much food as they could carry back to the common room for Albus and James. When they returned, Dmitri and Rafael had finally appeared and were sitting by the fire.

"Ivanoff keep us longer than ve think," said Dmitri, exhaustion clear on his face. "Ve have celebration in the snow."

"In this weather?" gaped Rose, looking to make sure that she had not imagined the raging blizzard.

"Ve have more cold at school," Dmitri reminded her wearily. "Ve… I… climb to sleep."

"Get some rest," said Rose, worried, as Dmitri stood. Rafael stood as well, arm half supporting his younger brother, although he appeared equally tired."We can talk tomorrow."

But the next day saw an increase of illness at the school. Rose woke to find Albus, James, Dmitri, and Rafael all abed with the same symptoms. Lysander helped her walk each one to the hospital wing, where Madame Chang met them with pursed lips.

"I'm doing the best I can," she said to Rose, "but I was simply not prepared for this influx of students. It may take a few days." The wing was full of students of all years and houses, including a very ill looking Beaxbatons boy

Three days later, the nurse stood to address the students at the end of breakfast. "I know you are all anxiously awaiting the return of your friends," she announced, sounding almost nervous. "However, this illness is not something I have dealt with before. Your friends are in no danger!" she cried over the worried murmurs. "The fevers have begun to drop, and I believe that to be a sign of improvement. Now, to make sure that this does not spread…"

But it did not appear to be spreading. After Boxing Day, no new bouts of illness had sprung up.

Rose visited the hospital wing each day. All of the beds were occupied, and new ones had been added to the already crowded configuration. Albus, James, and Dmitri, their beds so close that they were almost touching, listened to tales Rose spun for them, mysteries and adventure stories that she had read as a girl. They told Dmitri of Beedle the Bard, a storyteller who had created most of the standard fairytales for wizarding children. He nodded along- his concentration wavered with the fever, so it was difficult for him to speak English.

Lysander and Lorcan both remained healthy. "I'm not surprised," remarked Lysander, setting down _Emerald: The Year of the Scar_. "I don't catch sick very easily."

"Why are you reading _that_?" asked Rose, looking at the book curiously. It was one of the many written about her uncle after the war. Her mother had an immense collection at home- "Isn't it best to know what people are saying?" she often told Harry when he visited. Harry disapproved, and his children were expressly forbidden from so much as picking one such tome up.

"If they need to know something, they'll come to me," he had said firmly.

"More research for Lorcan," explained Lysander. "I'm not supposed to tell you until he has it all figured out, though."

"Not only is it research, it's research I can't _help_ with?" exclaimed Rose. "C'mon, what are you looking for? Maybe I already know!"

But Lysander shook his head. "Contain your curiosity, Rose," he said calmly. "You'll know when you know."

The rest of the school arrived the day before spring term began. Rose helped her roommates unpack- Mary Deverill had brought back an Oliver Wood poster that she insisted on hanging in the room, despite Tia Marsh's protestations.

"Home sweet home," muttered Tia as the other three girls squealed over the Quidditch captain.

No one was alarmed over the sick students. "A bunch of people are ill every winter," said Louis Weasley, who had opted to return home for break. "Madame Chang will have them back on their feet in no time."

Classes began as scheduled, though a large number of students were still under Madame Chang's care. The first Herbology lesson of the term was cancelled due to the persistent blizzard that lingered around the castle. Professor Longbottom, who had fallen ill himself, opted to cancel completely rather than hold a lecture in the Great Hall.

Potions was only missing two students- Albus and Callum Leach, who had (to his peers' utmost shock) been asked to attend the ball with an older Slytherin girl. Professor Slughorn sighed upon seeing the two empty spots.

"Still abed, are they?" he said, as if the boys had decided to skip class to have a kip. "Shame. Scorpius, go back over to Rose. At least something good can come of one tenth of our class missing."

It was the first time Rose had seen Scorpius since Christmas Eve. The corner of his mouth twitched like he was going to smile, but then thought better of it. He opened his book to the page on the board as Rose shifted her cauldron over on the desk.

The room was nearly as tense as the previous time the two had been paired together. Kara Welsh and Loren Nicosa stared openly, whispering to each other in hushed tones. Tia Marsh nudged Liam O'Grady, gesturing to the open book, but he ignored her. Shrugging, she began reading the instructions to herself.

Even Slughorn was aware of the unnatural, expectant silence in his classroom. He regarded Rose and Scorpius oddly for a moment, then made a show of looking through his desk.

What were they all waiting for? Did they really all believe that the pair would not get along just because of their parents? Something had to be done.

Rose turned to look directly at Scorpius. "What are we making today?" she asked, her voice ringing through the silent room.

"We're working on the Extract of Excitement again," Scorpius replied quietly. "Could you please pass the knife?"

"Of course."

She handed him the knife and lit a fire beneath the cauldron. Slowly, conversation in the room picked up. Rose glanced up to see that Slughorn was giving her an odd look.

"I tried one of your fires," remarked Scorpius casually, beginning to slice the lacewing flies with steady hands. "It didn't work."

Rose's first reaction was surprise, then offense, then something akin to flattery. Neither Albus nor James had ever attempted to light one of her fires before- though perhaps that was because she was always there to do it for them.

"You don't know the essence of it," she said, "that's why it didn't work. You didn't visualize the proper thing."

"That makes sense," he said. "It didn't seem too difficult."

"So Callum is sick as well?" guessed Rose as she looked over the rest of the directions. "I hardly saw him at the ball."

"You were hardly _at_ the ball," he pointed out. "And yes, he went with Astra Cross. It was part of a bet with her sister or her friends or something- he told me all about it, but I forgot." After a moment, he added, "You said you didn't see him at the ball. Is it only people who went that got sick?"

"It seems that way to me." Rose began dropping the lacewing flies into the cauldron, one at a time. "Then again, almost all of the people who stayed at the castle were at the ball."

There were, however, Lorcan and Lysander, who remained well. Victoire was healthy, as far as Rose could tell- she only emerged from her room for meals, which she spent by Molly Weasley's side. Rose herself had missed a large portion of the event and did not catch whatever had sprung up.

Scorpius seemed to be following her train of thought. "I didn't go, and I'm fine," he said. After an uncertain pause, he added, a bit quieter, "How are… your cousins?"

Out of all the cousins of hers that were attending Hogwarts, she knew he was only asking about two. "They're a bit better," she said. "Madame Chang thinks she had finally found something that works. Albu- I mean, their fevers are almost gone."

"That's good," said Scorpius. He looked like he was going to say something else, then stopped short.

"Why did you stay here over break?" Rose asked. She had rather thought that he would have retuned home instead of staying at school.

"My mum and dad were visiting some relatives," he replied, but the words came hesitantly.

"Do you not like your relatives?" she asked, though it then occurred to her that she should have kept that question to herself.

Once again, Scorpius hesitated. "It's not that," he said, then stopped. With a mulish set to his mouth, he continued to chop the black beetle eyes in silence.

Rose could take a hint. The pair continued to work without speaking. Occasionally, Rose would ask a question. The invariable response would be a shake of the head, a nod, or a shrug. Eventually, she stopped trying to make conversation.

She couldn't even vent her frustration at the situation to Albus and James. Madame Chang had closed off the hospital wing to all visitors. "They need to get some rest, dear," she said through a crack of the door when Rose ignored the note and continued knocking. "You understand, right?"

She returned to the Gryffindor Tower unhappily, huffing, "Phoenix feather," to the Fat Lady and immediately collapsing in a chair by the fire.

"You're in a pleasant mood," noted Lysander over the top of his book, _Hogwarts Hideouts_.

"I've already read that one," said Rose sourly scowling at the book. She had worked her way through as many books about Hogwarts as she could get her hands on the previous year. "It doesn't even touch on the passageways. It's mainly debunking myths about the Chamber of Secrets, talking about the forbidden sector of the third floor-"

"Part of the third floor is forbidden?" asked Lysander casually. "I didn't know that."

"No, not anymore," she clarified. "Remember when Mum and Dad and Uncle Harry went to recover the Philosopher's Stone? It was their first year."

"But why would a corridor be in a book of secret locations in the castle?" He looked at her almost expectantly.

"It wasn't just a corridor," she explained, wondering why he was giving her that look. "They went down a trap door that led to the Devil's Snare, remember? I'm sure we're talked about this before. Next was the room with-"

She froze, her mouth half-open, and Lysander grinned. They both knew her next words.

"The room with the flying keys," finished Rose, shocked that she hadn't realized it before. "Lysander, that's it! That's the door!"

"Amazing how you figure these things out, isn't it?" he remarked, offering her one last smile before returning to his book.

Rose had no chance to tell Lorcan what she had learned. The next morning, Albus was back at breakfast.

"She just let me out," he explained wearily as he sat. "James should be better by tonight."

"Did Madame Chang figure out what it was?" asked Rose.

"No," he replied glumly, pouring himself a glass of pumpkin juice. "She couldn't break the fever, basically. It wasn't being flushed out by magic. She even tried some Muggle remedies, but those didn't work either."

Rose frowned; she didn't like the sound of the school's Healer not being able to cure what seemed to be so simple an illness. "That worries me," she said, but didn't go further. Albus looked too exhausted to think about more than getting food into his system.

The morning post arrived in a flurry of feathers and beaks. Two owls made their way to Rose- a small tawny that bore her issue of the Daily Prophet, and a large grey that she recognized instantly.

"Mum finally wrote back," she sighed as the owls landed. She dropped seven knuts into the pouch tied to the leg of the tawny owl, then took the letter from Minerva, her mother's owl.

She had been waiting for an update on the Trijuska research for almost a month. Her parents kept in touch, but with every letter came the confirmation that her mum knew nothing more.

She skimmed through the letter, then set it down with a sigh. "Nothing," she told Albus. "Nothing! Why can't I remember where I've heard this before?"

The school slowly filled up over the course of the day. James reappeared in time for dinner, though his throat was still too dry to speak. He picked at his food, heading back to the common room early to go to bed.

Dmitri was brought into the common room late that night, just when everyone was heading to bed, "He didn't know the new password," Lysander explained as he helped Dmitri in. "I found him sitting outside the portrait hole."

"They shouldn't let them out of the hospital wing when they can barely walk," Rose told Tia when they were getting ready for bed. "Dmitri had been sitting out there for who _knows_ how long."

The next morning, all three boys had made a full recovery. They inhaled every dish in sight during breakfast- "Being sick leaves you with a healthy appetite," said James between bites. Once they had finally slowed down, Rose asked about Rafael's condition.

"I vill go to the hospital ving after breakfast," said Dmitri, chewing busily. "He vas not good vhen I see him last night, but I think he is good now."

Rose went to the hospital wing herself during her lunch hour. Dmitri had not shown up for the meal, which worried her. She found him by Rafael's bedside, his eyes closed. He was speaking in a language she did not know. As she watched, his hands began to glow burgundy.

"_Hraniti_" he said, his voice strained. "_Jak. Hranti. Vjera. Snaga._"

The ball of light moved from Dmitri's hands to Rafael's, which he clutched. Slowly, the colour ran up Rafael's arm in a steady wave of magic. Rose watched until the colour had spread completely over his skin.

"I make a healing," said Dmitri raspily, not looking behind him to see Rose standing there. "I make a healing, but he is not good."

Rose sat next to him on the cot. Rafael was sound asleep, his breath coming in dry rasps. "He's not doing any better?" she asked, though the answer was clear.

"I thought he will be better. He is not." Dmitri's brow was creased in worry. "Madame Chang, she have him sleep, but it is magic. His fever is not avay."

She felt his forehead; it was blazing. "Maybe he should be sent to St. Mungo's," she suggested. "It's a wizarding hospital. They could help him."

At that moment, Professor Ivanoff entered the room. His face was surly, but when he saw Rose and Dmitri, he smiled. "There you are, Dmitri m'boy," he said warmly. "I was hoping to find you here. And… Rose Weasley, is it not?"

Rose nodded, and Dmitri said, "You vere looking for me, Professor?"

"Yes, well, Professor Slughorn was concerned when you did not attend his lesson this morning." His eyes fell on Rafael. His lips tightened. "I can safely assume that I was correct in informing him that you were with your brother."

"Professor, he is not better," said Dmitri urgently. "I know this, it is magic! Ve must-"

"That is a discussion for another time and location, Dmitri," Ivanoff said firmly. "For now, I believe it best for your friend here to escort you back to the Great Hall. We wouldn't want you missing any more lessons, now, would we?"

Dmitri obeyed the order sullenly, twisting his head to stare back at his brother as they left. Taking his arm, Rose decided that she did not like the Durmstrang headmaster very much. He had an almost greasy air about him, and everything he said came with a tinge of dishonesty.

Rafael showed few signs of improvement over the next week, By then, the entire school war aware of the champion's plight. Madame Chang resigned herself to Dmitri's constant presence by his brother's side. Rose, Albus, and James stopped by between classes, during meals, and at night before they were sent back to their dormitories to get sleep.

During one of these visits, they overheard a hushed conversation between Professor Ivanoff and Madame Chang.

"You can cure all of the Hogwarts students, but not my champion?" Ivanoff hissed angrily. "Doesn't that strike you as a bit suspicious?"

"You know as well as I do that there is magic in his ailment," replied Madame Chang wearily. "I am doing everything that I can. If you would just allow him to be seen at St. Mungo's-"

"No," he snapped. "He will be seen here and only here. You are aware of the rules surrounding the Tournament, are you not?"

She pursed her lips. "Each and every one," she replied icily, her tone colder than Rose had ever heard it. "Now, if you have nothing more to say, I have work to do."

Rose spent that Saturday in the library, going through all of the books with information on the Tournament. She found the rule Ivanoff had been referencing in _Triwizard Mishaps: Tales from Beyond the Goblet_.

_Some rules of the Triwizard Tournament were lost in the gap between 1797 and 1994. One such loss was evident when Beauxbatons champion Remy Zuffery was seriously injured during a task involving a Chimera__**.**__ Efforts were made to transport him to L'Academie de Medicin, shortly off the Beauxbatons grounds, but they were met with failure. Zuffery lived, thanks to the healers on site, but it was concluded that the Goblet would not let __Triwizard contestant leave the grounds of the school they were competing at._

_This appears to be contradicted in the 1994 tournament where dual Hogwarts champions Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory were transported to the graveyard of Little Hangleton via portkey. However, it is thought that as the Triwizard Cup served as the portkey, the touching of the Cup by aforementioned wizards simultaneously ended the tournament and activated the portkey. _

So Rafael could not be taken to St. Mungo's because it was off Hogwarts grounds? But Rose specifically remembered her parents telling her about visiting Hogsmeade with Harry during their fourth year. She returned to the Gryffindor common room, knowing that the answer could be found in _Hogwarts: A History_.

Surely enough, one of the first chapters covered the relationship between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade.

_The village of Hogsmeade was founded almost one hundred years after Hogwarts. When the four founders originally decided upon the location of their institute, they chose a tract of land owned by Helga Hufflepuff's family. As you can see from the map on the adjacent page, Hogwarts castle only takes up a small part of these lands._

_After the original structure was completed, a section of land was returned to a relative of Hufflepuff's, Hengist of Woodcroft. He founded Hogsmeade to escape from Muggles that were chasing him. The thought was that wizards would be safe from prosecution in an entirely magical community. The initial magic lay down by the four founders, however, covered the village as well as the castle. Modern enchantments now are only laid on the castle and surrounding grounds, but the ancient magic recognizes Hogsmeade as part of Hogwarts._

Well _that_ was certainly interesting. Rose wondered which protections lay on both Hogwarts and Hogsmeade- obviously not the inability to apparate or disapparate, from stories she had been told. Possibly the effect the area would have on Muggle eyes; she knew that if a Muggle was to stumble upon Hogwarts, they would see a tumble-down building with warnings to stay away, that it was dangerous. She was certain that Hogsmeade would have similar Muggle-repelling enchantments.

She decided to not bring it all up to Albus and James. Certainly it had been explained to Dmitri- he had been nattering at Professor Ivanoff each time the man was in sight. They had not discussed what they both knew, that the illness was of a magical nature. Dmitri had essentially shut down, only showing signs of life when Ivanoff entered the room or when, always out of his headmaster's sight, he pushed more red light into his brother's body.

Rafael himself was still asleep. A drained Madame Chang explained that the persistant fever was really draining his body. "If he's asleep, his body can concentrate on driving out the sickness," she said, wiping a cool cloth across Rafael's forehead. She would not admit out loud that magic- obviously a magic stronger than hers- was behind the fever.

That night, Rose sat by Dmitri's side as he pulsed his magic into his brother. "Eat," she pleaded with him when he stopped, panting. "You're wearing yourself thin. You can't fight this with no food in your body."

Nodding, he took the overloaded plate she offered him. "Thank you," he grunted. "You have been too kind. Rafael vill thank you as vell, vunce he is avake."

Professor McGonagall swept through the door, imposing in her dark grey robes. "Mister Potter, Mister Potter, Miss Weasley," she greeted with a nod. "Mister Romolov. I am pleased to inform you that we have brought someone to the castle who may be able to help your bother."

This caught Dmitri's attention immediately. "Vhat?"

"An old student of mine is on his way as we speak. He specializes in… special circumstances such as this."

The doors to the hospital wing opened once more, and in strode Bill Weasley.


	10. An Unexpected Ally

"Bill," said Professor McGonagall warmly, embracing her former student. "Thank you so much for coming out here today."

Rose quickly ran the implications of her uncle's presence through her head. He had been mauled by Fenrir, a legendary werewolf who had led an attack during the war. He had not turned Bill into a full-blown werewolf, but Bill had acquired a selection of wolfish tendencies.

If he was here today, only one of his skills would be of use. After the war, Bill had found that he had acquired an enhanced sense of smell, which revealed a previously unknown facet of Wizarding life.

"So here's how this is going to work," he explained to Professor Ivanoff, who had followed him into the room. "Each wizard has his own scent- everyone does, Muggles too. But wizards leave a sort of magical scent on those whom they touch with their magic. From what you've told me of this illness, I should be able to find a wizard's scent in it."

Ivanoff regarded him suspiciously. "So you will… smell him and find the source of the illness?" he said slowly.

Bill nodded, explaining, "I work part-time for the Ministry doing just that. It won't be too difficult. Now, whose scents should I expect to find mixed with his?"

Madame Chang stepped forward.

"Lovely to see you, Cho," greeted Bill with a grin. "Glad to see you're keeping yourself busy here."

"Knew you would sympathise," she said with a relaxed grin. Knowing that Rafael was no longer her responsibility must have been a relief.

Dmitri also put himself forth. "I try a healing on him," he said, ignoring the glare Ivanoff shot him. "You vill find me as vell."

"And one of my favourite nieces!" cried Bill, spotting Rose for the first time. "Why am I not surprised to find you in the middle of everything? Albus, James, do I have to tell Ginny that you're making trouble?"

The children moved away from Rafael's bed as Bill drew closer. "He's very strong," Bill said to no one in particular. His gaze was locked on someplace distant as he knelt by Rafael's side, inhaling deep, slow breaths. "Brave. Caring. Resilient. Worried… Then there's Cho- cleansing, confused, weary. Another- worried, anxious, powerful… Very powerful… Another, tied by blood- fierce, determined, single-minded."

McGonagall and Ivanoff exchanged a glance as Bill stopped speaking. He continued taking deep breaths as his eyelids flickered, then closed completely.

After a long, tense minute, he stood. He gave Professor McGonagall a confused look.

"It's gone," he said, an odd, perplexed expression on his face. "When I touched it, it backed away. When I tried to capture it, it vanished."

At that moment, Rafael let out a low groan. Dmitri pushed past Bill and knelt by his brother's side. Rafael's eyes flickered, then opened completely. His mouth began to open and close, but no sounds came out.

McGonagall gestured to Bill and the children, who followed her out of the room.

"Thank you, Bill," she said, her voice serious. "We were beginning to fear…" Without finishing the thought, she turned to Rose, Albus, and James. "Now, I cannot stress enough the importance that you do not speak of what has just transpired. Bill is going to have to try and track the magical…. er…. scent to its source within the school."

"Providing that it does, indeed, lead to someone in the school," clarified Bill, "which I'm not certain of. There was powerful magic in that boy..."

"But he'll be okay, won't he?" asked Albus worriedly.

"He'll be fine," Bill reassured him. "I'm afraid incidents like this are all too common during the tournament. Something, accidents happen, but sometimes…" He left the statement unfinished.

McGonagall sent them back to their common room, repeating the instruction to not speak of what they had witnessed. Rose wanted to talk to Albus and James, but it seemed like every Gryffindor in the school was packed into the common room. When it became clear that there was no quiet place to talk, they gave up and went to bed.

Bill sat at the head table the next morning at the place of honour by Professor McGonagall's side. He waved to his confused children, who had obviously not been told that their father was at the castle. Towards the end of the meal, Victoire and Molly stood and went up to the table, amusing Bill by curtsying to Professor McGonagall before speaking.

Dmitri was not at the meal- he was presumably still with Rafael in the hospital wing. As Rose scanned the room, she noticed who else was missing. Alistair.

"Just watch," she murmured to Albus and James. Bill had begun to casually stroll the room with his eldest daughter. His chest rose and fell heavily; he was searching for the scent he had lost in Rafael. "He won't find anything."

Bill returned to the head table as the bell rang, dismissing the students to their first class. Rose could not catch what he said to Professor McGonagall as she passed, but his expression did not tell of hope.

It was time for another Defence practical lesson. Most recently, they had been working on blocking multiple attackers with a Shield Charm.

"The difficulty here," explained Professor Evariste once the class had settled, "is focus. If Miss Kerbow here puts up a shield against Mister O'Grady's attack, then she may still be vulnerable to Miss Creete's advance. The key is to not think about the immediate danger when casting a shield, or you risk it being specialized. Let's try it out."

Once Tomasa Kerbow had effectively blocked both attacks made on her (after four failed attempts that left her Stunned), the class was split into groups of three with one group of two. Rose and Albus tried to be that group of two, but Professor Evariste shook his head.

"You two, work with Mister Malfoy here. I believe Mister Leach would benefit from a smaller group." Callum Leach had never recovered from the reputation he had earned during the Stunning Spell practical.

Rose met Scorpius' gaze as he crossed the room. Albus, looking like he would rather be anyplace but there, nodded stiffly to the approaching boy. For the first time, the class saw Potter and Malfoy stand face to face.

"This is the level of silence I expect during final exams," said Professor Evariste, raising an amused brow. "During my practicals, however, I require a certain amount of mayhem and ruckus. You may begin."

Rose broke the hesitant silence within her group. "I'll go first," she said. "Albus, try to attack me."

Anticipating his move before he even drew his wand, she concentrated on generating a strong shield charm. When Albus' spell hit it, the shield absorbed the red light, momentarily surrounding Rose with a pinkish hue. Grinning, she let the shield fall, forgetting about Scorpius' coming attack.

"_Stupefy_," he said quietly. Rose flew backwards, landing with a soft thud on a pile of cushions. She rushed to refill her lungs, which were not accustomed to such a landing.

Scorpius ran over as Rose pushed herself up. "I thought you were going to block it!" he cried, looking almost exasperated. "Rose-"

"It was my fault," she acknowledged. "Now we're even from me knocking you off your broom, eh?"

The group dynamic only got tense once Rose was no longer the subject of the dual attacks. Next was Albus, who Scorpius seemed reluctant to attack.

"Oh, just come at me," Albus finally huffed, growing frustrated with Scorpius' hesitation. "There's only an hour left."

Narrowing his eyes slightly, Scorpius threw a Stunner at Albus. Instead of the spell sinking into the shield, it bounced back, missing Scorpius' head by only a hair.

His wand seemed to work as an extension of his arm as it cut a vertical line through the air. A brief puff of golden light, and Albus was spinning in place like a top.

Albus' wand arm flew out, and as he spun, a green ring of light formed around him. Still whirling about on his toes, he threw the ring of light out. It encircled Scorpius and flipped the boy onto his back. The spell around Albus broke, and he too fell.

Rose, still comprehending what had just transpired, stared at the boys.

"What the- Scorpius- Albus!" she cried as both boys struggled to sit up. But they wore matching abashed grins, and laughed upon seeing the other.

"Didn't expect that one," admitted Albus as they rose. "What was it?"

"Spinning Spell," replied Scorpius, brushing off his robes. "I have a feeling it wasn't exactly in today's curriculum."

"Not exactly," said Professor Evariste, who was leaning against the wall. Neither boy had seen him there. "And I must say, a good shield charm would have prevented either. Back to work, boys." But he said it with a good-natured smile.

Albus and Scorpius returned to stunning spells, which they exchanged as foundling friends. Rose accepted the transition as a positive sign of bonding between the boys. She didn't understand how fighting could bring boys closer, but shrugging, she accepted that there were some things she didn't need to understand.

At the end of the lesson, the trio sat where they were instead of Scorpius returning to the Slytherin side of the room- the students tended to divide themselves along house lines. Professor Evariste's eyes lingered on the unlikely group for only a moment before wrapping up the lesson.

When the bell rang, the trio rose as one, exiting the classroom with their bags. "So, what do you usually do after Defence?" asked Rose. She and Albus typically returned to the common room, headed to the library, or (more recently) the hospital wing.

"It depends," replied Scorpius as they reached the stairs. "The common room's not too bad around now- I go and get a head start on my work."

They walked with the flow of older students heading to class as Rose thought**, **considering Scorpius' words— _"the common room's not too bad around now"_. Finally, she said, "I was planning on getting some work done on that Potions assignment. I think they have a book or two on Hiccupping Solutions in the library. D'you want to come?"

Scorpius hesitated for a moment, uncertainty flickering across his face, then smiled. "I think I'd like that."

So, much to the surprise of Madame Abbott, who had to adjust her spectacles to assure herself that her vision was not failing her, that afternoon saw Rose Wealsey and Albus Potter pull out a chair for Scorpius Malfoy, and laugh as he joined their number.

Dmitri was finally present at dinner that evening. Rose and Albus had walked with Scorpius to the doors of the Great Hall before heading their separate ways for the meal. Now they sat across from James, who had arrived earlier.

"Rafael's doing better," said James as Dmitri played with his fork. "The fever broke last night after we left. Dmitri says he's recovering well, though it may be another day until he's released."

In fact, Rafael was not released until Sunday afternoon. He entered the Gryffindor Common Room just as Rose and Albus were preparing to leave.

"I am fine," Rafael insisted immediately as Rose and Albus rushed towards him. "Tired. Ve shall speak of… of… vith the morning."

Dmitri followed his brother, his face grave. Rose and Albus left as the voices of the other Gryffindors rose in a gossiping clamour. They did not want to hear what the others had to say about their foreign friends.

Bill left the castle that night after dinner. He had walked through the Great Hall during each meal, conversing with his children, nieces, and nephews as he tried to find the scent. As far as Rose could tell, he had had no luck.

"It's so _frustrating!_" she vented to Albus on their way to Herbology. "I _know_ who it is, but I have no _proof_!"

Albus sighed. He had long since ceased to argue against Rose's theory of Alistair's evil plot to win the tournament. Now, he just nodded along with her as she ranted.

"I mean, he missed all of the meals since Bill arrived," she continued, "and suddenly he's back for breakfast this morning. Doesn't that alone strike you as a bit odd? We know he's strong enough- he had the power to conjure the Delaney storm, and I've done quite a bit of research on that. It should have been impossible for a student, even a seventh year!"

"So maybe it wasn't him," offered Albus without much hope. As he knew she would, she shook her head.

"No, I'm positive. It's all Alistair."

Rafael made slow steps towards a full recovery. He visited Madame Chang each day for a bout of potion that was designed to flush what remained of the illness from his body. By Wednesday, he was well enough to return to his lessons.

Rose wished she had more proof of Alistair's involvement than just the fact that he had disappeared from the meals for the weekend. When she casually asked Scorpius about the champion's disappearance, he said, "I heard he was sick. Sure was around the common room more than he usually is."

It was difficult to hang out with Scorpius when they lacked the convenience of a shared common room. The next few weeks found the trio in the library, huddled near the lake by one of Rose's fires, even out on the Quidditch pitch a few times. Rose sat on the stands with a letter to her parents or a textbook and watched Albus and Scorpius fly.

One day, the boys surprised her by bringing out a third broom from the school's storage shed. "I tried to stop him," said Albus, shaking his head helplessly. "Suppose he'll have to learn from experience."

Rose gave Scorpius an icy stare as he said, "Oh, don't give me that look, Rose. We agreed-" Albus coughed. "-well, I thought that it was time you got on a broom again."

"No," she said flatly.

"Come on," he said, a joking smile on his face. "Just one lap around the pitch? I'll race you."

Rose took a deep breath before responding. "I don't fly," she said, glad to hear that her voice was steady. "You two go."

"Not without you, we're not," said Scorpius stubbornly. "At least come down to the pitch with us? You can put up a fire to keep warm."

Grudgingly, Rose climbed down the stands with the boys behind her. She couldm't make out what they were whispering, but it made her uneasy.

Reaching the snow-covered field, Scorpius offered the broom to Rose one last time. "Just try it?" he asked.

"Not a chance, Scorpius."

He put the broom down, feigning dejection, which made Rose grin.

"C'mon," she said, "let's see if you can light one of my fires yet."

She strode a few feet away until she found a thin patch of snow that barely covered icy tufts of grass. Water did not hinder the spell, but excessive snow could drain away some of the heat. She bent down to brush the snow away, revealing a large target for Scorpius.

"I can do this in my sleep," boasted Scorpius with a confident grin. "See?"

A small burst of flames flew from the end of his wand and landed in the snow. Slowly, it began to sink into the snow in front of him.

"You didn't concentrate on limiting the heat for that one," critiqued Rose. Scorpius snorted. "Fine, then. If you're so good, fill the patch I cleared from there."

She took a step out of the way as Scorpius narrowed his eyes in concentration. "_Rosa Inflarum_," she saw him mouth as he flung his wand arm out. A burst of scarlet flames flew from the tip, hitting Rose with a wave of heat as they brushed precariously close to her face.

Unbelievingly enough, the fire fell into the patch Rose had cleared away. She was about to congratulate Scorpius when a thick bolt of red light struck his chest, throwing him backwards.

"Scorpius!" she cried, as another voice shouted, "You filthy little leach!"

She spun to see James rushing forth in the snow, scarlet Quidditch robes blazing. The rest of the Gryffindor team followed at a slightly slower pace.

"Get away from my cousin, you mud-dwelling, purist _filth_," James shouted as he trudged forward. "Rose, get out of here!"

"James, what are you _doing_?" she cried, rushing to put herself between Scorpius, still flat on his back, and James. "_James!_"

"Why were you just _standing_ there?" he asked angrily. "Did the little Malfoy slime Confound you or something? He was attacking you!"

"He was not!" said Rose furiously. "He was lighting a fire!"

"On your bloody _face_, perhaps!"

She turned and helped Scorpius to his feet. "I'm fine," he groaned, "just a bit sore…"

"Get your hands _off_ her!" James reached for his wand again.

Rose grabbed hers first. "_Expelliarmus!_" she cried. James' wand flew away from him. Dominique Weasley, the Gryffindor team's Keeper, caught it. She did not toss it back to James- she knew his temper- but regarded Rose warily.

"James, listen to me," Rose panted, the sharp winter air biting at her lungs. "Scorpius was not attacking me. We're friends. We were-"

"Friends?" James snorted derisively. "You're not friends with… _him_."

She ignored this and continued. "We were practicing casting my fires. See?" She gestured to the red flames, which everyone was giving a wide berth. "He's almost gotten them down."

"Al, what is she prattling on about?"

Albus had stepped forward. "It's true," he said softly. "James, there's no need to freak out…"

James turned suddenly to the other team members. "We came here to fly, didn't we? Well, let's fly." He took the broom one of the Beaters handed to him and turned back to Rose. "This is a closed practice," he said to Scorpius coldly. "Gryffindors only."

Scorpius' eyes turned hard. "Let's go inside," said Rose hurriedly, not liking either boy's expression. "It's getting too cold out here for me."

She waited for Scorpius and Albus to walk ahead before turning to James. "You should be embarrassed," she said hotly. "I certainly am for you."

His indignant replies were lost as Rose strode away, walking straight through the fire as she said, "_Finite Incantatum_." She caught up with Scorpius and Albus, and the three headed inside.

From that time on, they avoided James whenever they were with Scorpius**, **and did not seek him out even if they weren't. During Foreign Studies, they stayed in their regular seats, not making eye contact, though James shot the Slytherin section occasional glares.

Dmitri seemed unphased by their new companion. "Who is boy vith green?" he asked one day, having just seen Rose and Albus leave Scorpius by the doors of the Great Hall.

"Scorpius Malfoy," said Rose. "He's a friend of ours."

Each time she explained it to people, the words came to her more easily. People still stared- people who didn't know Rose and Albus, people who had only heard of their parents' hatred for Malfoy- but it no longer bothered them.

Scorpius remained the same in front of the school- shy, silent, reserved. The only change came during a Potions class in early February.

"I still think it's possible," he argued as they stood in front of the classroom door. Professor Slughorn had yet to arrive and let the class in.

Rose sighed with exasperation. "How many times do we have to go over this?" she said. "You can't _train_ a Crup, it's just not possible."

"But they said the same thing about dragons until a few years ago," he pointed out, "and look at them now!"

"Those dragons were raised as pets," countered Rose, "which, at the time, was illegal. It still is!" She should know- over her birthday dinner two years ago, her parents had to convince Hagrid that he could _not_, in fact, raise a dragon while working at Hogwarts. Just because a group of wizards in Italy had managed it doesn't mean that he should try.

"Besides," Rose added, "their mentalities are hardly comparable."

The argument stretched on as they filed into the classroom. Rose only noticed a difference when Scorpius followed her to the desk she and Albus usually occupied. Scorpius' usual partner, Crispin Orthos, sat next to Kieron Berger and Odessa Blackwell.

Professor Slughorn raised a brow at the seating change. "Seems to me that my class shrinks each day," he remarked, looking around the room, eyes unreadable. "Must be due to old age. Speaking of age…"

Dmitri's mood deteriorated as February wore on. The second task was set for the 25th, and when it was only a week away, he finally cracked.

"He cannot go into task two," he told Rose urgently. They were in the second year boys' dorm, where Dmitri had hidden himself away all afternoon. "you know the sickness was made vith magic. I am scared of person doing that."

"You know he _has_ to compete, right?" asked Rose. "He doesn't have a choice anymore. He entered his name in the Cup- that was his choice."

"He entered family name. Vas pride of Ivanoff. But he vill be nothing if kill."

There was no talking him out of his mood. Shortly after his conversation with Rose, he shut down completely.

"He's not coming to classes anymore," James told her a few days before the task. "I told the teachers that he's sick."

It was a believable lie. Dmitri stopped showing up to meals as well. Rafael always took a platter of food up to his brother, but most of it returned uneaten.

The night before the task, Lorcan came to sit with Rose at dinner. "I went to see Professor Trelawney today," he said casually.

"For what?" asked Rose.

"Mum asked me to," he explained. "She thinks that since my grandmum is a Seer, I might be one too."

"Luna's mum is a Seer?" Rose thought that Luna's mother had died before the twins were even born.

"No, my other grandmum. She worked for the Ministry when she was in her prime."

"Well, it would make sense," said Rose slowly. Lorcan had always possessed an uncanny knack for knowing things- she had always just assumed that he was nosy. But then there was the drawing, his sketch of a door and a key that they had never seen.

"Trelawney agrees," he said, rifling through his bag. He pulled out a square of parchment and handed it to Rose. "This is what we came up with today. She told me to draw the first thing I saw."

She had expected a crystal ball or chairs around a desk. Instead, she saw a circular room that stretched up beyond the top of the drawing. Plain pillars reached towards the unseen ceiling, ending in Doric bases that looked like claws.

"What room is this?" she asked Lorcan.

He shrugged. "I'm not sure," he said, looking the drawing over again. "Trelawney warned me that it might be nothing at all. Just go to the door tomorrow."

The last sentence fell flat. Rose, not seeing the correlation between the two matters, said, "What?"

"I said, the sketch might be nothing at all," Lorcan repeated.

"No, not _that_," said Rose. "The part about the door."

"What door?"

"_The_ door!" Rose was beginning to grow frustrated with the way the conversation was proceeding.

Lorcan looked bewildered. "What about the door?" he said.

"You just told me to go to the door tomorrow," said Rose, attempting to remain calm. "I am asking you _why_."

"Huh." Lorcan made a face. "I don't remember saying anything about the door. Are you sure you heard me right?"

Something occurred to Rose. "Lorcan," she said, "I think you may have just made a prediction."

"Huh," he said again. "Huh. But I don't think I'm that kind of Seer. I do drawings and stuff."

"I don't think it works that way," said Rose. "Why should we go to the door tomorrow? We should be at the second task."

"Unless I meant before the second task," said Lorcan, "or after it. Or during it, too, I suppose."

Rose shook her head. "I'll… we'll think about it," she said.

That night, Rafael sat alone in the common room. Rose had not seen much of him the past month; now, he looked like he just wanted to be left alone. He had his writing kit out, as usual, and was drafting a letter.

She thought about him as she prepared for bed. He would be alright- he had emerged from the first ask, hadn't he?

But he had been injured- nearly killed, according to his own account… An account that had been abruptly retracted when the dead raven was thrown through the window. None of the pieces of the puzzle made sense, and most frustrating of all, none of them pointed to Alistair Trimble.

Dmitri arrived at breakfast the next morning with Rafael. Silently, he sat and made himself a plate of oatmeal. The meal was altogether a quiet one; no one dared shatter the somber mood hanging over that section of the Gryffindor table.

Rose yawned as she poured herself some pumpkin juice. She had been up through a large portion of the night, trying to make all of the pieces fit together. The only solution she had come up with was to keep Dmitri away from the second task. If something nasty was planned, she didn't want him anywhere nearby.


	11. Tragedy at the Tournament

Rose broached the subject to Dmitri as Rafael left the table. "What d'you think of coming on a little adventure with us this morning?" she said, imbuing her words with a sneaky shred of mischief. "You know, get your mind off of things."

He looked at her blankly, an almost dead look in his eyes. "Vhy now?" he asked limply.

"Lorcan and I found a secret passage under the school. We can go down there for a bit before the task." She cocked her head. "It'd be an adventure…"

"And you wouldn't have to go to Transfiguration," added Albus, uncharacteristically excited to be skipping class. Rose shot him a look, asking him to be more subtle.

"We'd have you back in time for the task," said Rose, though she intended to have him far underground when the task began. "C'mon, you need a bit of relaxation."

Dmitri was silent for a long moment, then nodded. "I think I vill," he finally said.

"Perfect!"

Rose had to fight the urge to let her perky smile falter and fade as the meal ended. She hated to miss class- she knew she would be in terrible trouble, not even thinking about all the work she would be missing- but her friends were worth it. It was just good that she had friends like Albus and Lorcan, friends who would go along with this plan.

They waited in the Gryffindor common room until the first bells rang. The Fat Lady still didn't know how to tell Lorcan and his twin apart, so as far as she knew, she was letting Lysander in to grab one of his textbooks. When the four of them slipped out, she was too immersed in a conversation with her friend Violet to wish them goodbye.

"Vhy is James no coming?" asked Dmitri as the group reached the third floor. He had been quiet for a while, and it was apparent that only desperate curiosity made him speak now.

"James had other plans," said Rose carefully. "He had to take care of something for me."

In truth, she had decided to not tell James about where they were going with Dmitri. He would disapprove- "Bravery in the face of danger," he would have said. It was a motto of his. Rose understood it, but now was not the time. If what Lorcan saw turned out to be true…

Besides, they didn't need bravery. All they needed to do was to keep Dmitri away from the task- and any danger that would come along with it.

The corridor was not difficult to find. The wall torches were not lit- Lorcan and Rose led the way with their wands lit. The walkway was piled high with boxes and various magical devices that looked to be centuries old. The group climbed over what appeared to be a section of a pillar carved with ancient runes and symbols. Rose desperately wanted to stay and examine the runes- they had become a hobby of hers the previous summer- but Albus tugged her forward.

Lorcan stopped in front of a door, paused for a moment, regarding it curiously, then said, "This is it."

It was not, in fact, the door from the drawing; it opened easily without the key Rose held in her pocket. The room it revealed was also being used as a storage space. Up against the far wall, Rose could just make out the curve of a gilded mirror frame. It was obstructed by an immense gargoyle statue, unusual in the fact that it had a ring of eyes running around its head. She could have sworn one winked- but it was just a flicker of light playing games with the shadows.

"If this is the room," she said, ignoring the gargoyle, "then there**'**s a trapdoor somewhere." She looked at the life-sized stones depicting three witches wearily. It could be a long morning.

With all four of them in the room, there was only enough space to shift one object at a time. Rose, who had been practicing**,** levitated each statue, piece of furniture, and unidentifiable object covered in dust, each time giving Albus a long glance at the floor beneathto check for a trapdoor.

"I think I've got something," he said at last. Rose carefully floated the colour-changing maypole to the side and set it down as Lorcan and Dmitri made their way to Albus.

"Well, that's a trapdoor alright," assessed Lorcan calmly as Rose knelt. A square of the floor had wood running in the opposite direction- that alone would have drawn her eye, even if it hadn't been for the hinges and latch.

She pulled it up and was met by a puff of dust. Coughing, she waved the air in front of her face to clear it. Once she could see again, she stuck her wands down the hole, shedding light on a drop that descended into darkness.

Rose recalled everything she knew about what lay below. Besides what her parents had told her, she had done extensive research on the chamber after realizing where the key fit. Not much was documented- her parents and uncle never spoke much of their first year at school when asked to comment, and their stories were usually the same.

"The fall used to be cushioned by a plant," she told the others, "but that's gone now. I reckon it's stone floors below, or at least hard wood."

Lorcan jerked his wand, and a coil of rope flew to him. "I figured we might need it," he explained. "For, y'know, anything."

Albus helped him anchor one end of the rope under an immense statue of Lutifare the Lucid, then they tossed the other end through the open trapdoor. It slid down, but they could not tell the length of the drop.

"I'll go down first," Rose volunteered, sticking her wand in her pocket. She would need both hands to manage the rope. "Follow down after I call up that it's okay."

Albus gave her an almost reproachful look, but Lorcan nodded. Dmitri's face was still mainly blank, though he leaned over the open space with a look of mild interest.

Rose slid her body down through the hole, clutching onto the rope nervously. She didn't have much upper-body strength, and the rope immediately scratched at her palms. Clenching her teeth, she slid her elbows off the edge of the hole-

And began to fall.

She let out a small shriek. The coarse rope burned straight between her hands as she struggled for purchase. As a last effort to stop her fall, she threw out her legs and leaned backwards**, **gripping the rope as thought Death itself was beneath her. After a few bumps, she slid to a stop.

"Are you okay?" Albus' voice echoed down the drop, full of worry.

"Gimme a minute," she replied gruffly. Keeping her back and legs pushed out, she clutched the rope with one hand and drew her wand with the other. "Lumos," she whispered, and light burst from the tip.

The rope continued down to pool on the ground, which was less than ten feet away. Rose returned the wand to her pocket and wrapped a few loops of rope around her hands. Sucking in a nervous breath, she drew her legs in and began to descend.

The last feet were more controlled than the free fall, though the rope still cut into her hands. It was a relief when her feet finally touched the floor and she could release the abrasive rope.

"I'm down," she called up to the others. The trapdoor was just a tiny square of faint, flickering light above her. "Careful, the rope is tricky."

One by one, the boys made it down the rope. Rose had managed to sooth most of the pain in her hands with some cooling charms by the time Albus scurried down the hole, landing lightly on his feet.

"I'm telling you, take up Quidditch," he said, seeing her glare at his easy descent.

"You've been around Scorpius too much," she countered. Though he had quickly learned of Rose's distaste for Quidditch, Scorpius did not see her flying as an impossibility. Which it most certainly was.

The room they had descended into was completely empty. Water trickled down the bare walls, forming small puddles on the packed dirt floor. There was no far wall, as Rose had initially assumed; instead, the room narrowed and sloped into a thin corridor.

Wand lit and arm extended, Rose led the way down the mild hill. It opened into a large chamber that shot upward into an elegant dome. Directly across the curved chamber stood a large wooden door.

"That's it," said Lorcan with a grin. "That's my door."

There were small differences between the sketch and the actual door. The door that stood before them was covered in small holes where chunks of the wood were missing. The lock, heavy and dull, matched the metal of the key.

"This room is beautiful," remarked Albus, inspecting the walls. They were ornately decorated with faded murals of once-bright colours. Rose ran her hand over the painted wing of a fairy in flight, marveling at the artistry of it.

Lorcan tapped lightly on the door, his fingers resting on the wood. "Let's open this up," he said, waving Rose over.

They key fit smoothly in the lock. The door swung easily on its ancient hinges, revealing another dark corridor.

Rose and Lorcan exchanged a glance; they were about to pass through the door that they had been searching for since September. They stepped through and Albus and Dmitri followed.

There was no indicator of what had previously been contained in the next chamber. It was a plain square room with crumbling stone walls and a high, beamed ceinling. A lingering stench blew the four of them out into the next room.

"Chess," said Dmitri. It was his firt sign of true interest all day. "Vhere are the piece?"

"It's disenchanted," explained Rose, leaning down to examine the edge of the board. It was oversized, stretching from one side of the large room to the other. "There used to be a living game set here- to cross the room, you had to win the game."

"That vould be not easy for me." Dmitri looked around the room warily. "Vhat about that vun?"

There was a single chess piece standing in the far corner of the room. Nearly twice as tall as Rose and pearly white, the Queen did not move as she approached.

"Just left as a memory, I suppose," she said, not completely convinced of her own words. "C'mon, let's keep going."

The next room was also unmarked. A plain wooden table was magically adhered to the floor in the center of the room. Rose knew that it had once held an assortment of potions, and a riddle one had to solve in order to pass through the room safely. Her mother had once solved that riddle and recounted it to her in detail.

"There's only one more room," she told the others. There was no final door for them to pass through, only an arched doorway leading into the largest chamber yet.

Rose felt a certain amount of awe upon stepping into the room. This was where her uncle had faced off against Lord Voldemort when he was only eleven- she couldn't imagine doing the same thing now, though she was a few weeks older than he was where he had gotten the Philosopher's Stone..

The room seemed almost to buzz as she walked through it. "This is… amazing," she breathed, reaching a hand out to touch a large pillar. "It's like the room is alive or something."

Albus and Lorcan continued walking around the room as Rose went to sit next to Dmitri. He had sunk to the bottom of the pillar and was looking around the room with a faint smile.

"It is amazing," he said, "to be here. Ve study the Dark Vor, back at Durmstrang. All year vuns learn all ve know of heroes. Ve should have been at final battle."

"We weren't alive back then," said Rose, surprised.

"My school," he expauined. "Ve should haff helped. Ve did not. I vish ve had. This…" He looked around the room, still in quiet awe. "Ve learn of events to go before Dark Vor. I know this room. It is of the Philosopher's Stone."

Rose was used to people knowing who she was- her parents would be stopped on the street by witches and wizards who wanted just to shake their hand in thanks. But she was not used to this, sitting next to someone who had studied her parents' lives. She reckoned that Dmitri knew things about her parents that even she did not. It was… unnerving.

"Ve teach to be prepared." Dmitri did not look at Rose as he spoke. "Ve teach that it vill happen again. And vhen it does, ve vill be prepared."

Albus and Lorcan came to sit in the large open space of the chamber. Lorcan pulled a stick of charcoal from his bag and began lightly sketching on the ground. Leaning his head back against a pillar, Dmitri shut his eyes; he appeared to be catching up on nights of lost sleep.

Rose and Albus sat together a bit away from the other two. "I can't believe we're down here," Albus remarked, not for the first time. "I mean… Dad told me about this place. Only once, but I remember…."

"I don't think my parents ever made it down this far," said Rose. "Mum might want to, for research or something.…"

"I suppose all of the memories aren't too pleasant. Dad doesn't really talk about his third year."

Rose knew that it was true; out of everything she had learned about her parents' third year, none of the information had come from her uncle. It was a year most often skipped over, the almost blank space between year two and the Triwizard Tournament. Rose's mum had told her once that Harry didn't like to talk about Sirius, the man she had never known but heard spoken of with an almost religious reverence.

A loud thud from beyond the doorway caught all of their attention. Dmitri snapped his head up in a sleepy, unfocused stupor. Lorcan stowed the stick of charcoal in his bag and took out his wand almost absently. A half-finished drawing lay in front of him, at an angle so that Rose could make no sense of it.

Rose stood and moved to the arched doorway, wary, as the sound of footsteps drew near. It was Lysander, revealed as he crossed the chess board a room away. When he reached Rose, she was that his expression was tight and his eyes were rimmed with red. Wordlessly, he passed her and entered the room.

Dmitri jumped to his feet. "Ve are late for the task, are ve not?" he said, his tone already tight and nervous.

"You're not late," replied Lysander softly. "Sit down, Dmitri."

He sank to the floor and Lysander came to sit next to him. Lysander hesitated, then said, "The second task is over, Dmitri."

Dmitri's hands began to shake. "Ve go now," he said, a new element in his voice. Fear. "Rafael, he vonder vhere I am. Ve go."

Rose knew Lysander's next words before they left his mouth.

"There was an accident, Dmitri."

She sank down next to Albus and clasped his hands. His mouth was already set in a hard line.

"Then ve haff to go," Dmitri insisted, his thin voice cracking. Tears were already in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Dmitri." Tears began to stream down Lysander's face as he said, "Rafael is dead."


	12. Dinnertime Duels

The years of academic preparation Rose had spent prior to coming to Hogwarts- the potions with her mother, the jinxes with her father, the hexes with her aunt, the spells with her uncle- helped her to grip onto a bit of routine while the rest of her life fell to piece. Her feet had memorized the many steps she took throughout the day. The route to her classes was engrained in her mind. She walked blindly to the common room without having to think about it. It left her mind free to try and shut down.

After Lysander's announcement, her world had begun to spin out of orbit. Her mind could not wrap around the concept- Rafael, dead? Rafael, the one who had sat in the common room, writing letters and learning chess? Rafael, who had stood by her side in the eye of the magical storm- gone?

The story came together shortly after the group emerged from the trapdoor. Lorcan had told Lysander where they were going the night before, after the vision. The group had missed their classes, and then was still missing for the early lunch. When they did not reappear, Lysander and James had to go to the second task without them.

Things had gone wrong from the moment the task began. The champions had to reach the top of a wall of vines that snapped out at them, where the next leg of the task would begin. Mariette Croisseux had partially transfigured herself into a bird, sprouting large, feathered wings from her back. Alistair had begun to charm a length of rope through the vines, attempting to hook it onto the top of the oversized hedge.

Rafael had taken a more direct route. Taking a running start, he sprang up, swinging agilely from vine to vine as they thrashed and tried to buck him off. They did the same to the other champions. Mariette's wings worked, but the vines kept throwing her back. Alistair's rope was slapped at continuously, throwing him off-course.

When Rafael reached the halfway point, something changed. Instead of trying to throw him off, the vines began to snare around his body. They tightened, drawing him close and quickly cocooning him so all the crowd could see was a bundle of green.

The rest of the details were blurry. After a brief moment of deliberation, the judges had walked onto the field. The vines had ceased to move- James told them that a short, stout witch had yelled an incantation to freeze them. Mariette landed next to Madame Maxime, and Alistair stood by Professor McGonagall, his rope frozen in the midst of the vines.

"Uncle Harry cut him down," said Lysander quietly. "Just sliced right through the vines around the… the spot. Rafael… he was already dead by then. Strangled, I suppose. Crushed."

Rose buried her face in her knees. It was nearly four in the morning and she had yet to sleep. The Gryffindor fire had been burning through the night- she was joined in her vigil by Albus, James, and Lysander.

Dmitri had been half-carried to the hospital wing, where his brother had been brought. Lysander told the others, who had gone straight to the common room as per Professor McGonagall's instructions, that Mariette was also in the hospital with Madame Maxime. Her eyes were glazed over and stared, unseeing, into a wall.

"She'll be fine," Lysander said after returning. "Her wings haven't gone away yet, though. Shock."

Shock was a good word to describe the state of the school. The next morning, the group of exhausted Gryffindors made their way to the Great Hall in weary anticipation of what breakfast would bring.

The room was silent as they entered. The only noise stemmed from the clink of forks against plates as the students ate, not speaking to each other. Eyes followed Rose as she led her group to the Gryffindor table. They all knew that Dmitri and Rafael were part of their usual group. Rose sat and almost broke down into tears upon seeing the empty spaces that the brothers usually occupied.

The meal passed in uncomfortable silence. Rose had no will to start a conversation. Exhaustion swamped her, but she knew that when she slept, the nightmares would come. She wanted to postpone that for as long as possible.

After the plates had cleared themselves, Professor McGonagall stood. "I would like to address the matter of the tragedy that occurred yesterday afternoon," she said gravely. Her quiet words carried through the Hall with ease. "Rafael Romolov, champion of Durmstrang Institute, died in what can only be described as the most upsetting of accidents. We all mourn his loss, and will continue to mourn for a long time."

Rose examined the head table. Professor Evariste's usual smile was gone, as were his brightly coloured robes. He, along with the other teachers, wore plain black.

Professor Ivanoff's chair was conspicuously empty, as were the places at the Slytherin table that the Durmstrang students typically occupied. Rose didn't know where they were, seeing how their ship was no more than a pile of lumber on the edge of the Forbidden Forrest.

"Professor Ivanoff will be holding a traditional ceremony of mourning," continued Professor McGonagall. "He asks that it be a private, small affair with only him and his students. If you have any concerns with the mourning process, please, come and speak with me."

Someone in the room snickered. Eyes blazing, James jammed his hand into his pocket and pulled out his wand. Rose caught his arm before he could raise it.

"Don't be an idiot," she hissed. "Later."

Jaw clenched tightly, James put his wand back in his pocket and balled his fists on the table.

"Classes for the rest of the week have been cancelled," announced Professor McGonagall. "Students are asked to please remain in their common rooms or the library, which shall remain open. Access to the grounds is restricted to prefects and Head Boy and Girl."

The prospect of four days locked in the common room was not pleasant. Rose wanted to go to classes, to get her mind off everything. She returned to Gryffindor Tower unhappily with the rest of the house, herded along by the prefects.

Victoire was in one of the chairs by the fire, her eyes wide as they bore into the flames. She was still in her dressing robe and slippers, golden hair thrown back in a messy bun.

"Victoire?" Rose knelt by her cousin's chair. "Victoire, are you alright?"

Victoire did not respond.

"You missed breakfast, Victoire," pressed Rose.

Louis Weasley knelt by her side. "Ca va?" he said. "Comment êtes-tu? Victoire, tu as froid. Qu'est-ce? Médecine? Hôpital? Tu êtes en état de choc."

Her chest rose and fell in slow, steady breaths. Louis tapped her hand, then felt her pulse.

"C'mon," he groaned, standing. "Rose, help me bring her to Molly? We're not allowed down to the hospital wing, and I think she needs to see Madame Chang."

Already eager to escape the cramped common room, Rose agreed. Victoire stood when her brother tugged on her hand. They led her through the portrait hole, ignoring the stares of the other Gryffindors.

"They'll stare for a while," said Louis. "You are friends with the brother, after all. Where is he, hospital wing?"

"Yes," Rose responded flatly. Were they really going to talk about the tournament? She wasn't sure if she was ready to yet.

"I think it's just awful. I mean, he's only what? Twelve? Thirteen? And-"

"I really don't want to talk about this," said Rose abruptly. "Sorry."

Nodding, Louis was silent. Occasionally, he would turn to his sister and say something in French. He never received a response.

"She's having a hard enough year as it is," he said to Rose following one failed attempt. "Did you know someone's been sending her letters?"

"Letters?" Rose recalled the countless times Victoire had been visited by owls during the morning post. Most of them bore Teddy Lupin's unmistakable script. "What kinds of letters?"

"They're from some sort of secret admirer," said Louis confidentially. "She doesn't know who it is, but they're really creepy. I found one of them and made her tell me what was going on."

That would explain Victoire's odd behavior. How many times had Rose seen her enter the common room looking flustered and throw a piece of parchment into the fire? It made sense- and there had been everyone thinking that she was just upset at being away from Teddy.

"This, this is just shock," continued Louis. "Madame Chang sent up a potion to make her sleep yesterday after the task. She had collapsed. I think everything is only just hitting her now."

"She must be thinking about the Yule Ball," said Rose, "though she only had one dance with… with him."

Louis shrugged with a helpless grin. "I dunno. She's fragile like that."

Victoire seemed to be oblivious to entire conversation. Her feet moved slowly, always trailing a step behind Rose and Louis. Her bright blue eyes were now dull and lifeless, as if she was still asleep and ensconced in some dream world.

Louis led Rose up a long, winding staircase. They stopped in front of a door with no handle, only a knocker in the shape of an eagle. "This is it," he said. "The Ravenclaw common room. Let's just hope that Molly's in there."

"She might be out with the prefects," pointed out Rose. The prefects had led the Gryffindors to the common room, then left to report to Professor McGonagall.

A rich female voice came from the eagle-shaped knocker. "Is it superior to live your dreams or to dream your life?"

Rose knew that to enter Ravenclaw Tower, a riddle had to be answered."It's all logic," her mum had once said. Hermione had received a request from Professor McGonagall to provide a new set of riddles for the door. "It's more about the reason behind the answer than the answer itself."

"If you dream your life," said Louis, "you're in full control."

Nothing happened. Hurriedly, Rose added, "But if you live your dreams, you can still achieve what you want while sharing it with others."

The knocker turned, and the door blew open.

"Molly?" called Louis loudly, not entering. "Excuse me! We're looking for Molly Weasley!"

A girl popped into the doorway. "You opened the door," she said. "Terrific! What did you say?"

"What?" said Rose, confused.

"What did you answer to the riddle?"

Rose repeated what she had said, and the girl nodded.

"Very good," she said with approval. "Now, who was it you were looking for?"

"Molly Weasley," repeated Louis. "We're her cousins."

"I don't think she's in right now," the girl said. "No, as I recall, she left with the prefects. Her sister is here, though. Do you want to see Lucy?"

"That's alright," said Louis. "Thank you anyway."

"How about I take her down to the hospital wing for you?" offered the girl, looking at Victoire. When Rose and Louis gave her confused looks, she laughed. "You didn't say where you were going, I know, but she's obviously in shock. Why else would you need Molly?"

Louis raised a brow. "You know, _you're_ not allowed in the hospital wing either right now."

"But _I_ am a Ravenclaw," the girl responded easily. "It's easier to be invisible when people don't expect you to be making trouble."

"Hmph." Louis regarded the Ravenclaw for a moment then extended his hand. "Louis Weasley."

"I know," she said, shaking his outstretched hand. "And you're Rose, correct?"

Rose nodded.

"You didn't introduce yourself," Louis told the girl. "I still don't know your name."

"You didn't ask." With a smile, she said, "I'm Arianna Burrow. C'mon, let's get her downstairs. The prefects might still be meeting with McGonagall."

Arianna took Rose's spot by Victoire's side. Rose only wanted to get back to her dormitory at this point. The lack of sleep was beginning to swamp her. And if the nightmares came, she would just have to manage.

On the way back to the seventh floor- Ravenclaw Tower was across the castle from Gryffindor Tower- she stopped at a window that overlooked the grounds. A group of figures clad in black stood before an immense wall of green. As Rose watched, the vines began to move.

Rose took a startled step closer to the window. All of the figures had moved back except for one. The vine had begun to slap at him, but they were deflected by an invisible shield.

After a few minutes of the vine's attack, the others stepped forward as the wizard rendered the vines immobile once more. They began to talk- Rose identified one of the witches as Professor McGonagall, and a wizard as Professor Ivanoff. He was resting most of his weight on a sturdy wooden cane that sunk into the snow.

They must be examining the vines, Rose realized. Why would they be doing that? Shouldn't they know-

Unless it wasn't supposed to happen. Obviously he wasn't _supposed_ to be killed, but what if… What if something had gone wrong? Hadn't Lysander said that the vines had only started wrapping around Rafael when he was partway up the plant?

Rose had previously been too shocked to think through what had happened, but now that the thoughts had begun, they were impossible to stop.

Why would they design a task that so easily could kill a champion? Sure, they had been dangerous in the past- her uncle Harry had battled a dragon, stayed underwater for an hour, and faced off against magical creatures like sphinxes and giant blast-end skrewts. By comparison, this task should have been no more dangerous than the average Defence practical.

But Rafael was dead, and by Professor McGonagall's actions, she was thinking along the same lines as Rose: someone was responsible. Rose's thoughts immediately shot to Alistair Trimble.

"It all makes sense," she told Albus in a hushed tone. She had torn herself away from the window and hurried back to the common room. The noise level had slowly risen, and while it was nowhere close to the typical level, it was enough to allow for a whispered conversation. "It's what I've been saying all year, except now, Alistair succeeded."

"Let it go, Rose," pleaded Albus wearily. "I'm going to sleep. We'll speak later."

He was not the only one unwilling to listen to her. James had already retired to the boys' dormitory, and though Lysander listened patiently, he ended up shaking his head.

"You need to let this go," he said. "I understand that you feel a certain way about Alistair-"

"He's just- he's evil!" said Rose hotly.

"-but you need to keep it to yourself," continued Lysander patiently. "This castle is going to turn into a warzone before you can blink. It's the process of grief. Denial will turn to anger, and you do _not_ want to be caught in the middle."

Exasperated, Rose returned to her dormitory and flopped down on her bed. Why was no one listening to her? She fell asleep still wondering how everyone could be so blind.

The Durmstrang students did not return to the Great Hall that day, nor the next. A somber Madame Chang denied Rose admission to the hospital wing during the lunch hour.

"I'm sorry, dear," she said sadly. "I know you want to see your friend, but Professor Ivanoff had ordered the wing closed for a time. You understand, right?"

So Rose was left to wander the corridors, unwilling to return to her common room. It was crowded and noisy, packed full of people who did not fully grasp what had happened. If she returned dot the girls' dormitory, she would be faced with the pitying stares of Loren, Mary, and Kara. She was not in the mood to put up with that yet.

It was too snowy to visit Hagrid. She was testing her luck by roaming around the castle, but knew she would be caught if she went onto the grounds.

Her steps led her to the second floor. Pacing up and down the corridor was Professor Evariste, looking unusually somber in his flat black robes. Rose went to duck behind a pillar, but he had already seen her.

"Roaming the castle?" he asked with amusement.

"They wouldn't let me into the hospital wing to see Dmitri," Rose blurted out. "I'm just going back to Gryffindor Tower now-"

"Don't worry, you're not in trouble," he reassured her. "You look exhausted, however. Come in. We'll have some tea and talk."

Evariste's office was meticulously organized, like his classroom. "Pull up a chair," he said. "I have an assortment to offer. The tea mugs are in the cabinet behind you- none of those dainty little cups here, I'm afraid. I'm quite a fan of tea and enjoy consuming it in large quantities."

The bottom shelf of the mahogany cabinet contained the oddest assortment of mugs Rose had ever seen. One bore a vaguely familiar floral print- she stopped right before her fingertips brushed against it.

"A wise decision," said Evariste from behind her. "I believe I purchased that one from your Uncle George's joke shop, actually, back when your father worked there. Quite a salesman, that man is."

"He enjoyed working there," said Rose, selecting a mug with a beak and small, fluttering wings. For Evariste, she chose a large ceramic mug that kept sliding through the rainbow.

"He's over at the Ministry now, is that right?" Evariste prodded a teakettle with his wand and it began to spout light green smoke. "Mint tea," he explained. "It shall be only a minute longer."

Rose sat on a tall stool bearing a bright blue cushion and set the mugs down. "Dad's with the Ministry, yes," she said in response to the earlier question. "He loved it at the shop, but they offered him a spot as a field agent for the Department of Magical Games and Sports, for the Quidditch sector. He gets to Apparate out to all of the big matches."

"Runs in the family, I assume?" said Evariste. "Quidditch, that is. I thoroughly enjoy your aunt's column on the matter each morning in the Daily Prophet. Ah, the tea!"

The smoke had lightened to white, and the kettle began to ring. It sounded like a telephone- an odd invention, Rose had decided, but convenient enough for Muggles. She had one at her house, but the only people who called were her grandparents or Aunt Luna, who was quite amused by the device.

Professor Evariste poured the tea into both of their mugs. His turned minty green, and the wings on Rose's settled down, then turned into handles.

"Tea helps me to relax when I find myself stressed," said Evariste, watching coils of steam rise from his mug. "As I am a mere mortal man, this is a lot. You, too, seem to be under an abnormal amount of stress."

"No one will listen to me," Rose blurted out. She was finding that Evariste had a quality that made her want to tell him everything.

"I'm listening," said Evariste, his hazel eyes fully attentive.

She blushed. "Actually, I'm not sure I can tell you," she said sheepishly. "You see, it has to do with the Tournament. But it's just a theory…"

Evariste looked at her thoughtfully. "Do you think you possess information about alleged foul play?" he asked carefully. "I'm not supposed to be discussing this with students, understand, but I know that you were very close to Rafael. If you know anything, it is important that you come forward."

"I have no _proof_," groaned Rose. "It all makes sense to _me_, but without some proof, I can't do a blessed thing."

"Perhaps I can help," he said. "After all, I have access to resources that you, as a student, certainly do not."

"I think that it was Alistair Trimble," she said before she could think better of it. "He's been attacking Rafael all year. Why would someone want to win the tournament that badly?"

Professor Evariste listened patiently as Rose went through her reasons for suspicion. When she was done, he was silent for a long moment.

"It is certainly an interesting theory," he finally said. "Engaging. Controversial. How do you intend to prove it?"

"I haven't figured that part out yet," said Rose. She didn't want to tell him how scared she was of Alistair and his magic. If she was correct- which, the thoroughly logical part of her mind asserted, she had to be- then she was putting herself in the way of a wizard with powers no seventh year should possess.

"You are wise in not telling people of this theory," concluded Evariste. "An event like this is more than enough to permanently alter the relationships between the schools, and not for the better. I think it best for us to sit on this for a while, and revisit it when the time is right. For now, simply remain… vigilant."

Rose was tempted to tell him about the locket, how it had tugged her towards Rafael when he was in danger. But she kept it to herself- there were more important things to worry about.

The Durmstrang students returned to breakfast the next morning. They strode into the Great Hall with faces stoic and heads held high. Professor Ivanoff led them, still holding the thick wooden cane Rose had seen through the window. He climbed the dais to fill his normal seat, then nodded to his students. They sat, though they were the only ones to do so. At that same moment, Madame Maxime had entered with her students.

The seated students were impossible to miss, but Madame Maxime's eyes appeared to slide right over the breach in her strict order of conduct. The Hogwarts and Beauxbatons students sat only after she did.

Rose scanned the Durmstrang students; Dmitri was not among them. They all wore thick black armbands in mourning. The Beauxbatons students, who had only brought robes their school's periwinkle blue, had donned long black gloves and matching half-jackets. Black handkerchiefs fluttered from their pockets.

The gloomy peace lasted for only a few minutes. A clamour from the other side of the hall drew Rose's attention. A plate flew off the Slytherin table as a group of boys leapt to their feet, wands out.

"You vill say that again never!" cried a Durmstrang boy furiously.

"Try and stop me!" retorted a Slytherin. "You'll end up with Romolov the Saint-"

Three wands shot off at once. The Slytherin boy flew backwards, hit by a spell from somewhere across the room. He slammed into the table and scattered the dishes of food.

Two more bangs- one of the two Durmstrang girls was quickly being wrapped in a rope that shot out of Lisana Blackwell's wand.

Faustino and Delbert Payne got to their feet, but Alistair shook his head. The brothers sat, thought they looked longingly at the mounting brawl.

A few seats down, Scorpius Malfoy was attempting to stay out of the fight. It wasn't working very well; two older students blocked his escape route, firing spells at each other over his head. He ended up ducking below the table, using his thin, wirey frame to his advantage.

Molly Weasley had also joined the brawl, but she was attempting to end it. She shot spells at the growing mass of bodies, removing one at a time from the area surrounding the Slytherin table. The Head Boy, a slightly puffy Hufflepuff, was doing the same thing.

Above the roar of the brawl, Rose could not hear the incantation Professor McGonagall shouted, but its effect was immediate. The fighting students flew apart from each other, slamming into pillars, walls, and tables. The ropes around the Durmstrang girl turned to dust; a Slytherin boy slowly returned to his normal colour.

"Students!"

Rose winced. Professor McGonagall was a deep, angry pink. Her nostrils flared furiously as she spoke.

"I am outraged," she hissed, her voice carrying over the sudden silence. "Ashamed. Such behavior belongs in a pub, or on the streets, _not_ at Hogwarts."

Professor Ivanoff's face was completely blank. He picked at his food as if his students had not just been in a fight. Some of the other teachers were feigning similar oblivion, but many clutched their wands, ready to act if need arose.

"I have had quite enough," continued the headmistress. "Breakfast is over. Students, return to your dormitories at once. Your Heads of House will be with you shortly."

The dishes cleared themselves, and the benches slid out, ejecting students. "They couldn't even leave the muffins?" James groaned, rubbing his rear where the bench had bucked.

He was one of the only people complaining. Most of the other students were regarding each other warily. The Durmstrang students sat back down at the Slytherin table and were exchanging glares with the Slytherins, who were exiting in a huff.

Alistair had his arm around Lisana Blackwell's waist and was guiding her from the room, murmuring in her ear. Her full lips were pressed together in an angry line. Behind them hovered the Payne brothers, looking much like guards.

James stopped complaining when they reached the common room. All of the Gryffindors fought to squeeze into the space, which had never seemed so small.

Nearly-Headless Nick floated through the portrait hole, stopping just short of entering the room. "Well, isn't this quite the gathering," he remarked. "Word is, there was quite a disturbance in the Great Hall not too long ago."

"Knew you'd be a-_head_ of things," joked Louis Weasley, and several Gryffindors laughed.

Nick ignored the jab at his partially severed head. "Dreadful thing," he said. "Caused quite a stir among the ghosts, as you can imagine. Hogwarts students, acting like wild Hippogriffs. Really…"

The portrait hole swung upon, and Professor Evariste climbed through. "Excuse me, Sir Nicholas," he said politely, waiting for the ghost to move. Adjusting the ruffle around his neck, Nearly-Headless Nick floated towards the ceiling, where there were no students to accidentally lean through him.

"I was sent here to talk to you on Professor McGonagall's behalf," Professor Evariste announced. "She would like to make clear her deep disappointment in the behavior of her students-"

Protests broke out. "We weren't even _involved_!" cried James, though Rose had seen him digging through his bag for his wand during the brawl. And his statement was not quite true; a few Gryffindors looked down sheepishly.

"I understand," said Professor Evariste loudly. "Your headmistress would also like to make you aware of the ramifications of any future incidents…"

But the warning fell on deaf ears. Classes resumed on Monday, and with them came a fresh wave of fights. Rose took to performing a Shield Charm on her and Albus before they left class. Spells flew past them as they passed through the corridors, heads ducked down and feet moving quickly through the mob.

The Durmstrang students made it quite clear that they found blame for Rafael's death with the two surviving champions. Mariette had finally emerged from the hospital wing, once again free of wings. Her first meal did not go smoothly.

She entered the Great Hall with the other Beauxbatons students and sat at the Ravenclaw table. Five minutes into the meal, a dish of pudding exploded in front of her. She, along with the students sitting with her, were covered in the drippy white stuff.

Mariette stood, stepping into the aisle between tables. Slowly, she wiped her face clean with a napkin. The entire room was silent as she dropped the napkin on the floor. With a calm deliberation, she stepped on the pudding-soaked cloth, grinding it into the floor with her toe.

She turned and, head held high, exited the room. That was the last Rose saw of the Beauxbatons champion. She came to no more meals, and from what Rose overheard Molly saying to an exhausted-looking Victoire, Mariette also ceased to attend classes.

Alistair was dealing with the attention differently. All of the Slytherins seemed to be up in arms about the entire situation.

"They're the ones who started this whole mess," sneered James as they passed a group of Slytherins heading down to the dungeons. "They're just itching for a fight, and happy to have Alistair as an excuse."

Alistair himself stayed out of the battles that his housemates waged on his behalf. The Payne brothers could be often found shooting hexes from their pockets, but if Alistair noticed his cronies' actions, he said nothing.

Professor McGonagall did her best to keep the peace. The Durmstrang students were moved from the Slytherin dormitories to the Hufflepuff ones. The Hufflepuffs had stayed out of the mounting war, so they were selected as the safest place for the foreign students.

Mealtimes were cut in half. Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs ate together, along with the newly moved Durmstrang students. Halfway through the hour, they would switch with Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Beauxbatons. This resolved the mealtime spats, for the most part.

Detentions were assigned to any combatants, but those detentions soon turned into new war grounds. Professor Longbottom resorted to binding one of the Durmstrang boys with a vine when he would not stop trying to hex one of the other boys in his detention.

Overall, the mood in the castle was tense and unfriendly. Rose didn't pay much mind to the corridor battles, however. There was only one person she wanted to see, and he was still locked away in the hospital wing.


	13. A Night in the Dungeons

The next few weeks passed quicker than Rose thought they would. Time had seemed to slow following Rafael's death, so when she finally looked at the calendar, she was stunned.

Rules continued to change to separate the houses. Students were ordered to spend all of their free time in their common rooms, and were only allowed to venture into the halls with a professor by their side. Rose and Albus found that the only times they could see Scorpius was before and after their classes.

There came a day where Scorpius did not arrive before Potions class. Rose looked around the room anxiously as the other students settled in. The bell was about to ring, and there was still no sign of Scorpius.

Albus sighed as he caught Rose glance towards the door again. "Maybe he's sick," he said. "You're getting worried over the smallest things."

"Says you," she retorted. Albus was one of the most worrisome people she knew. "Besides, where would he go? The hospital wing is still closed, remember?"

She couldn't pinpoint exactly why she was worried. Touching the locket tucked beneath her robe, she thought for a moment that it was thrumming like a heart. But the moment passed, and the feeling was gone.

Professor Slughorn began the lesson, and Rose settled herself in to take notes. It was one of the few lectures the professor had given; he preferred a hands-on learning environment.

Just as he started listing the properties of lakelire, the door opened. Alistair leaned against the doorway casually, wearing an apologetic grin. By his side stood Scorpius.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said, his smooth voice a bit sheepish. "Scorpius and I got wrapped up in a conversation over breakfast and didn't realize the time."

"It'd better not happen again," Slughorn said, but he was joking. "No, we were just getting started. Hasn't missed a thing."

"I'm glad," said Alistair, scanning the room. "What is it today, properties of lakelire?"

"That's my boy!" Slughorn grinned warmly. "By the by, since you're here, remind Miss Blackwell about tonight. For all her skill at potion making, her memory is, how to say, lacking."

"I'll bring her down myself," promised Alistair.

Scorpius came to sit with Albus and Rose, not meeting the curious eyes of the rest of the class. Alistair remained in the doorway for a moment, looking at Scorpius with one brow raised. Scorpius looked away, and with a contented smile, Alistair exited.

"What were you and Alistair talking about?" asked Rose quietly, waiting until she was sure she could ask the question without anger or suspicion.

"Nothing much," Scorpius muttered, pulling out parchment and a quill.

There was no time for further conversation, as Professor Slughorn had returned to his lesson. When the class was over, Scorpius gathered up his notes and left the dungeon without putting them back in his bag. Rose stared after him, perplexed at the feeling that he was avoiding her.

That feeling only grew over the next few days. Scorpius arrived to class moments before the bell rang, and left as soon as the hour was up. She attempted to strike up conversations during lessons, but he would not so much as meet her eye. Alistair was occasionally waiting outside the door when the bell rang. He always smiled politely at Rose when she looked at him, but he swept Scorpius away as soon as the he left the class.

"I have no idea what his problem is," she huffed at Albus one night before bed. "I guarantee this has something to do with Alistair, though."

"Contrary to popular belief, I don't think Alistair is out to get you," he said, rubbing his forehead. "Maybe he's just stressed from all of this madness."

It was frustrating for Rose to have no one to talk to. She considered going back to talk to Professor Evariste, but decided against it. He must have more than enough to worry about.

She took action one day after Potions. "So I was thinking of going flying," she said as soon as the bell rang. Scorpius froze, his bag only half-packed.

"You? Fly?" He was no less than amazed. "I thought you hated flying."

"Albus and James always seem like they're having so much fun," she lied. "Maybe I need to give it another chance."

She thought he would certainly catch her in the lie. He looked at her suspiciously for a moment, then his face broke into a grin.

"Well, that's something I can't pass up seeing! When are you heading out?"

Thinking quickly, she said, "Tomorrow after Defence. That'll give me enough time to do the Charms reading after."

"You'll be in the air all night, I guarantee it." He laughed, and Rose was happy to hear that it sounded sincere.

After Scorpius left, Albus looked at Rose incredulously. "I cannot believe you," he marveled. "Are you saying that you would have gotten on a broom if I had ignored you for a few days?"

She stuck her tongue out at him. "I just don't want to see him get involved with you-know-who," she said, her voice low as they passed through the halls.

They both froze, looking at each other with wide eyes. "I didn't mean that," said Rose slowly. The words had popped out of her mouth before she had thought about them. "Al, I-"

"Let's go to lunch," said Albus quickly. "We have Foreign Studies this afternoon with Ivanoff. You'll want your energy."

Foreign Studies was by far the trickiest part of the week. All four Hogwarts houses still took it together, along with the foreign delegations. After several warnings failed to end the frequent battles, Professor McGonagall had been forced to disenchant the room for the duration of the lessons. Blocking spells were put on the Hall, eliminating most spells that the students tried to shoot at each other.

Professor Evariste was determined to keep his classes lively without engaging students in duels. Friday brought another double lesson, which Rose still looked forward to without the combat. Evariste brought in small disks for the students to use in a moving target practice.

"Aim your spells at them when they're in the air," he instructed. "I don't want to have your headmistress disenchant our room as well, so please, keep your wands aimed at the disks."

As an added incentive, the students discovered that if you hit the disks properly, they turned into small candies. An hour and a half later, Rose left the lesson with her pockets full of assorted magical and Muggle sweets. She began transferring them to her bag as she headed down to the Quidditch pitch.

When she reached the pitch, Scorpius was already in the air. He swooped down as Rose put her bag at the bottom of one of the goal rings. His hair was nearly translucent in the early spring's sunlight, and his pale eyes sparkled.

"C'mon," he said, "I left a broom for you," he said, pointing out the broom leaning against the goal post. "They're Astro Electras- not too shabby for school-bought brooms. I want an Astro Zen, but mum says I have to wait until next year, when I can actually bring it to school."

Feeling slightly panicked, Rose palmed the broom meant for her. She did not breathe as she mounted it- she only exhaled slightly once her toes were no longer touching the ground. It wasn't as bad as she had expected…

"Get off the ground!" called Scorpius. He was once again far overhead and was gesturing for her to meet him in the air. "It's perfect flying weather!"

"I'm- coming!" said Rose, gritting her teeth as she slowly began to climb. The broom took her into the air slowly. One foot, two feet, three feet- her stomach dropped as she saw the ground pull away. She felt herself rising faster and faster- she wanted to stop, she wanted the ground-

She lurched down and her broom shot forward. Rose vaguely realized that the shrill screech she could barely hear was hers. The base of one of the scoring hoops rushed towards her face- she swerved right, barely dodging the golden pole.

The wind whipped around her as she tumbled through the air. Her hands slipped off the handle of the broom- she flailed desperately to regain her grip- she fell.

Scorpius was by her side before her vision cleared. "You're mental, you know that?" he said as she groaned. "Absolutely mental."

"Don't- laugh- at- me," she panted, clutching her side. Her lungs had been knocked empty by the hard slap of the ground. "These things- need- _brakes_."

He tilted his head. "They need what?"

She had forgotten that he, having been raised in a strictly Wizarding family, would not know about something like brakes. "Never mind," she said.

He helped her to her feet. "You weren't paying any attention at all during the flying lesson, were you?" he said. "The great Rose Weasley, slacking off at a lesson?"

"I wasn't slacking," Rose retorted. "And as I recall, _you_ were hardly zooming around the field."

"We just need to get you back in the air," said Scorpius with an air of superior knowledge. "You have to get back on your broom after you fall off or you'll be scared forever."

"I agree with Scorpius."

Rose and Scorpius both started at the voice behind them. Alistair Trimble leaned against a score pole casually, his hands in the pockets of his open robe. A few feet back stood the Payne brothers- Delbert looked sleepy, but Faustino's eyes were alert.

Scorpius suddenly seemed nervous. "Hello, Alistair," he said, eyes flickering to the Paynes without a greeting. "Didn't see you there."

"I was only out for a stroll," the older boy replied. "What with the weather clearing up and all. I don't believe I've met your friend."

This appeared to pain Scorpius even more. "Alistair, this is Rose Weasley. Rose, Alistair Trimble."

"A pleasure to meet you," said Alistair with a grin. He extended his hand, leaving Rose with no choice but to take it.

His handshake was firm, but it managed to make Rose uncomfortable. She realized that she was meeting the Hogwarts champion, the man she thought to be a killer.

"I had the pleasure of meeting your mother once," said Alistair casually. "She came to the school for a lecture. Terribly brilliant witch."

"Many say so," said Rose. She wanted nothing more but to have this conversation over and done with.

"But of course," replied Alistair. "You are modest in regards to your impressive family history. But I must test your modesty once more and pay a compliment to the exquisite piece of jewelry you wear."

Rose was momentarily confused- she did not wear jewelry- but then she saw where Alistair's eyes rested. The Prewett locket had slipped out from beneath her robes when she fell from her broom.

"Just an old family trinket," she said, concentrating on retaining a causal tone as she slipped it back under her shirt.

"Ah, but family heirlooms are worth so much more than items bought for beauty." He paused, then said, "Scorpius has told me quite a bit about you."

"He shouldn't have." She glared at Scorpius, but he was studying the grass.

Alistair smiled. "All good, I promise. I was wondering- a few of my friends and I get together of Friday nights to discuss matters of academia. Would you care to join us?"

Panicked, Rose automatically looked to Scorpius. Misinterpreting the look, Alistair said, "Scorpius is naturally among that number. I am surprised that he did not ask to bring you before now."

Scorpius met Alistair's eyes coldly. Alistair smiled, his mouth all sharp edges.

"Rose is always busy with her studies," said Scorpius flatly. "I didn't think she would have the time."

"It's very kind of you," said Rose hesitantly. She was about to say that she would indeed be too busy, but something stopped her. Didn't she want to get the proof she would need to out Alistair? So instead, she said, "Where do I go?"

"Slughorn's room should be open," said Alistair, "and he wouldn't mind us using it. We'll meet down there at, say, seven tonight?"

"Seven it is."

"Then I'll see you there."

The Payne brothers fell in behind Alistair as he walked away. For all he said that he was going for a walk, he headed directly back towards the castle.

Rose studied Scorpius' expression. It was a mixture of anger, confusion, betrayal, and fear.

"You shouldn't go tonight," he blurted out suddenly. "I- I don't want you there."

"You're a lousy liar," she said. "What's the deal with the two of you? You start eating meals with him, get all chummy, like you're real good mates, then when he shows up here, you look terrified."

"You don't like him," Scorpius retorted. "Albus told me about your theories."

"_Albus _told you?" Rose was shocked. "When?"

"Not too long ago," said Scorpius vaguely. "He told me that you think Alistair's responsible for that Romolov's death, and all of the other stuff that happened to him."

"Well, he _is_," said Rose stubbornly, "but that's not the point!"

"Then what _is_ the point?"

She wanted to tell him everything- the locket, the feeling of _wrongness_ that emanated from Alistair when she saw him- but she could not. "Never mind," she said quietly. "I'm going inside."

"I'll walk you back," he offered, but she shook her head.

"I'll see you tonight."

The dungeons were freezing- Rose was glad she had thought to grab a cloak before leaving the common room. She had told Albus she was going to study; no matter what he thought of Scorpius and Alistair, she had a feeling he wouldn't approve of what she was about to do.

Thankfully, no professors were in the corridors leading to the dungeons. When Rose arrived at Slughorn's room, Alistair was already arranging chairs in the open space. The usual tables had been pushed to the side of the room to allow for ten of the dark, plush chairs Alistair had conjured.

"Ah, yes," he said, noticing her eyes lingering on the chairs. "I am a glutton for comfort, I must admit, and these chairs do function as well as any. Please, take a seat."

"Where's everyone else?" she asked, putting her bag down. She had put her wand in her pocket, where it could be reached easily.

"You're a few minutes early," he explained, "and my friends are notoriously late. I should have warned you this afternoon- my apologies."

He began pulling bottles from a cabinet. Rose thought for a fleeting moment that they were poisons, then recognised them as an assortment of liquors.

"Would you care for a drink?" he asked, summoning glasses from a cabinet across the room.

"No, thank you," she said politely. There was no chance of her accepting a drink from a wizard she did not trust. It was a lesson she had been taught as a child.

"If you're not of a mind for something stronger, I could whip up some tea," said Alistair. When Rose again declined, he nodded and sent one of the glasses back to its cabinet.

"I'm afraid," he said, "that I must state again how lovely that locket you wear is. Might I take a look?"

Rose was suddenly grateful that she had removed it in the common room. She clutched it in her pocket, hoping that he would not see her fist.

"I'm not wearing it right now," she said. "Sorry."

"Shame," said Alistair, and it sounded like he meant it. "I saw that it bore the letter P. Would that be for Prewett, or through your mum's side?"

A cold shot of fear went through her. "I don't recall saying I was a Prewett," she said slowly.

Alistair was saved from having to answer by the door opening. Scorpius' lips tightened upon seeing Rose, but he said nothing beyond, "Hello, Rose. Alistair."

"Scorpius!" Alistair grinned, his bright teeth bared in a friendly, charming way. "How did I know it would be you?"

"Delbert has detention," Scorpius replied, his words not in conjunction with the previous question. "He was caught fighting again. Faustino says he'll be here in a few minutes. He was just finishing something up."

Scorpius sat next to Rose after grabbing the glass Alistair offered him. Before Rose could try to begin any sort of conversation, Lisana Blackwell entered.

"Interesting," she said upon seeing Rose seated with Scorpius. "Shouldn't their wands be out by now? Or did he want to have a little drink before they began dueling?"

Alistair sighed. "Filter, dear. Rose Weasley, Lisana Blackwell."

Rose could not see the look Lisana shot Alistair, but his returning smile looked like a warning. Sighing loudly, Lisana took a full glass from the table and chose a seat.

Rose received similar odd looks and remarks as the room filled. When Alistair finally sat, all of the chairs had been filled. Which meant he had already known about Delbert, Rose realized.

"So," said Alistair, lacing his fingers together, "what is new with all of you?"

They all hesitated, shooting glances at Rose. "Delbert has detention again," said Faustino finally.

Alistair sighed, acting like he hadn't gotten the news already. "What for now?" he asked.

"He faked sick to get into the hospital wing," explained Faustino. "He was trying to get that Romolov kid, but the boy wasn't there. Del got frustrated. Broke some bottles."

Rose spoke before she could stop the words. "Dmitri's out of the hospital wing?"

Alistair leaned back in his chair as some of the others chuckled. "It would appear so," he said.

"About time," quipped James Baena. He was a seventh year boy with a long face and a smooth, drawling voice. "Too bad Delbert didn't go in a day earlier."

"You know I don't condone all of this fighting," said Alistair with a sigh. "No, fighting is not the answer…"

They continued on the subject of recent fights. Many of them involved people who were unfamiliar to Rose; the students must have been older Slytherins or foreigners. Instead of trying to remember all of the names and incidents, she watched the people around her.

Alistair was the obvious leader of the group. He sat at the head of the circle, always attentive though he slumped in relaxation. The others turned to him for approval when they spoke; a frown from him, and the speaker would stop at once.

Lisana sat on his left, wearing an expression of haughty disinterest. When she spoke, it was to express disapproval or disdain. Her wavy black hair was partially pinned back, keeping it out of her thin, angular face. She sipped her drink regularly, sometimes summoning the bottle to refill her glass.

Faustino Payne seemed at times to be more attentive that Alistair. His small, beady eyes darted to look at whoever was speaking, staring them down until they finished.

Scorpius stayed silent and stared into his full glass, watching the light amber liquid slosh around. He met Rose's gaze once, but looked away immediately. He did not contribute to the conversation, even when it moved to him.

"Scorpius and I were talking about it just the other day," said Alistair. "What happened to Rafael was a true tragedy. He was, after all, a worthy champion."

Almost unconsciously, Alistair began to toy with a cord that tucked into his robe. "I truly pity Dmitri," he continued. "It's an interesting feeling, to lose a brother."

Rose was struck by his choice of words. She wouldn't have chosen 'interesting' to describe how it felt to lose a sibling. She had Hugo, her younger brother, and his loss would be more like devastating.

"It's about to get a lot more interesting, from what I heard," drawled Baena. Some of the other boys laughed and Lisana bared a fox-like grin.

Alistair yawned, and the laughter ceased. "I'm afraid it's time to call it a night, my friends," he said. "I've managed to tire before the youngest of our group. That cannot bode well for my old age."

Taking the cue, the others rose. Lisana took charge of the glasses; they zoomed from everybody's hands and clattered into the cabinet, empty before the doors closed. Scorpius was the first to leave the room, not stopping to say goodbye to anyone.

"I'll take care of the chairs," said Alistair, waving the others away. "I'll see you in the common room."

In all of the clamouring about, Rose's bag had been knocked over. She knelt and began to gather her things, which had spilled onto the floor.

"I enjoyed tonight."

Rose looked up; the others had exited, leaving she and Alistair alone.

"I hope you did as well," he continued. "Young Scorpius counts you as a friend. I hope to be able to do the same."

Rose took a deep breath before speaking. This time, she was sure of her words. "I counted Rafael as my friend."

"Of course," said Alistair genially. "Fiercely protective, he was. Very much so when it came to his family."

"Dmitri still is my friend."

"I am aware."

"And you…"

"I wish to be your friend as well."

When it was evident that Rose was going to say no more, Alistair sighed.

"But I do see the conflict of interest. Well, no need to settle things now, right? I hold these little get-togethers every Friday. If you are ever of a mind to, please feel free to return."

They made no more conversation as Rose packed her bag. Alistair nodded cordially to her as she left the room. When she looked back, he was leaning against the remaining chair, looking thoughtful.

Rose wanted no more than to climb into her bed and close her eyes, but a dark figure curled up outside the Fat Lady made her slow her steps. She pulled out her wand as she approached. The figure shifted, his face coming into view-

"Dmitri!"

He was mostly obscured by a large black cloak that covered him from hood to toe. Upon hearing his name, he looked up. His eyes were puffy, his face pale and drawn. It was a face Rose had not seen for a month.

She helped him to his feet. "_Ridikulous_," she said to the Fat Lady, who, for once, had nothing to say.

Albus rushed forward, abandoning his Transfiguration assignment as Rose climbed through the portrait hole. "Up to the room," he said as people began to turn and stare. He took Dmitri's other arm and led him to the boys' dormitory staircase.

James and Lysander were sitting on Lysander's bed, looking over their Charms textbook. They looked up as the door opened. Neither knew what to say as Dmitri entered, flanked by Rose and Albus.

Dmitri sat on the sixth bed in the room, the one that had been added for him. For a moment, no one spoke. Finally, he broke the silence.

"I mourn," he said. His voice was rough, as if unaccustomed to being used. "I mourn, but I am not… am not… I mourn a month and I mourn now. Not… finished. But month haff finished. I haff to here."

"Do you want to talk?" Rose asked quietly.

Dmitri shook his head. "I am to sleep," he said. "Class tomorrow. Breakfast."

Albus and Rose slipped out and headed back down to the common room. "I need to talk to you tomorrow," said Rose quietly, ignoring the looks shot their way. "It's important."

"What isn't these days?" he replied with a sigh.

And she had to agree.


	14. The Callamitus Clause

It was clear the next morning why Baena had said things were going to get interesting.

Dmitri went to breakfast with the Gryffindors- "He sleeps with up, he takes classes with us, he eats with us," said James firmly when some of the other students seemed unsure.

The meal appeared to be going smoothly. Conversation was at the normal sleepy level, rising as the castle's occupants gained energy. Rose didn't notice Professor McGonagall's absence from the head table until the headmistress appeared behind James.

"I need to speak with Mister Romolov," she said, her face tight. "Presently."

Dmitri stood, then looked to Rose. "You come vith me," he said.

"Mister Romolov-"

"Rose come vith me or I vill go not."

Professor McGonagall sighed, and her weary gaze fell on Rose. "Miss Weasley, if we would be going, then?"

Rose grabbed her bag from under the table, exchanged a confused glance with Albus and James, then followed Dmitri. Professor McGonagall led them around the Great Hall to an inconspicuous door set in the corner of the room. Rose recognised it as the antechamber where the champions had been sent after their names were drawn from the goblet.

The small room was filled with people in the midst of a heated argument. With a jolt, Rose saw her mother standing next to Kingsley Shacklebolt in a corner of the room. There were various Ministry personnel perched around the room, many of whom seemed to be taking notes.

"_Look_ at him!" cried Professor Ivanoff, slamming his fist on the table. "He is _thirteen!_"

Rose looked to her mother for some clue of what was going on. Hermione's face was tight and drawn. She nodded slightly at Rose, but that was the only sign of recognition given.

"I must ask you to restrain yourself," said Kingsley from next to Hermione. "We must explain the current situation."

"There is no situation!" screeched Professor Ivanoff. "_There is no situation!_"

"I will not enforce it," said Madame Maxime, sniffling slightly. She took up an entire corner for herself. "I would not 'ave it 'appen to one of my students-"

"Nor would I," said Professor McGonagall. "Lennox, is there any other way?"

"We will cancel ze tournament," said Madame Maxime hopefully. "Zat will fix it. I do not mind- my students, zey would not want zis eezur. Zey 'ave 'arts."

A tall, thin man stood in front of the fireplace. He was draped in rich robes of deep blue that offset his light grey hair. His face was gaunt and exhausted.

"No," he said wearily. "Madame, you know there is no cancelling the tournament. Vikenti, I have been over and over the rulebook-"

"Curse the rulebook!" cried Professor Ivanoff, his cheeks turning red. "It isn't even in the rulebook, remember? It's a- a-"

"It's an unfortunate stipulation," said Hermione, speaking for the first time. "Vikenti, I have studied the Callamitus brothers extensively. The cases are nearly identical-"

"But he is only a _boy_!" said Professor Ivanoff, his voice cracking with emotion. "A boy…"

"It is an unfortunate turn of events," sighed the man by the fire, "but the signs are unmistakable. I must now speak with Dmitri."

Dmitri looked up at the man as he approached. Rose stepped to the side, trying her best to be invisible.

"Do you remember who I am, Dmitri?" the man asked.

"Mister Haufman," replied Dmitri. "You vere in hospital."

"That's right," said Haufman. "I am Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports at the Ministry, and thus in charge of the Triwizard Tournament." He dabbed at his face with a handkerchief. "Dmitri, I hate to bring up the subject of your brother so soon after his passing, but I'm afraid I must."

"Do not be afraid," said Dmitri stoically. "You vill do vhat you must."

At this, Madame Maxime began to weep again. Professor Ivanoff shot Haufman a pleading look, and Professor McGonagall turned away from the discussion.

Haufman cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Do you remember when your brother's name was drawn from the goblet?"

"I do."

"And do you remember how it was- er- phrased?"

"Ve use family name. Ve haff great pride in family."

Haufman sighed. "I'm sorry, perhaps it would be better if we sat."

"I vill stand."

Something in Dmitri had changed during his month-long stay in the hospital wing. He spoke powerfully, with a conviction beyond his thirteen years. Rose could not help but stare.

"There is a certain- technically, it's not a rule- I mean to say, there is a- er- a technicality that has arisen." Haufman dabbed at his face. "Certainly no one here expected it to turn out this way."

"Lennox," said Hermione suddenly. The man threw up an arm to shield his face, and a group of the Ministry scribes hopped off of their perches and kept low to the ground. They had all been blocking the goblet of fire, which rested on top of a short cabinet. Rose realized that, contrary to everything she had read about the tournament, the goblet was anything but dormant.

It threw up a pillar of red flames that nearly reached the ceiling. Sparks flew from its depth and landed all over the room. Dmitri, a look of wonder in his eyes, reached out and touched a burning coal that had landed on the desk in front of him.

"Do not be afraid," he said again. "It is not hot. Cold. Vhy… goblet of fire is red. Alive. Vhy?"

"It's because of you, Dmitri," said Hermione. "You, and the Callamitus Clause."

Haufman leaned on the table that took up most of the room. "There is a clause in the rules of the tournament," he explained. "Now, we lost the full rulebook over the years- some suppose that it was destroyed after the tournament was originally disbanded. We have rediscovered certain rules over the course of time, and they have been compiled into this book." He patted an open book that lay before him.

"However," interrupted Hermione, "some rules were never written down. The goblet of fire is an intensely powerful magical object. Sometimes, it makes its own rules."

"Vhat rule?" said Dmitri. "You say- you say Callamitus?"

Hermione took a slow breath to steady herself. "There have been numerous deaths to date during the tournament," she said, "but only three of them were remarkable: your brother, Cederic Diggory, and Sebastian Callamitus.

"Sebastian was the reason the tournament was originally disbanded. He was killed during the second task of the 1851 Triwizard Tournament. That itself is common knowledge. What people tend to not know about, however, is his brother Henri."

"Now, this was before the age line," Haufman reminded them. "Sebastian was a fourth year, and Henri a third."

"Strange events began occurring," said Hermione. "Back then, the goblet was locked up after the Halloween drawing of names. Since that year, it has been held in a separate room, though most people have forgotten why.

"On the morning of the third task, Henri disappeared from his common room. He was found on the site of the third task, held there by red fire." Hermione took another breath and closed her eyes. "Henri was… forced to compete. He was unable to leave the site of the task until the task was completed- he was propelled forward by the flames."

"I understand," interrupted Dmitri, a quaver in his words for the first time, "Say to me vhy."

Haufman picked up a glass of water, then set it back down again without drinking. "Sebastian put in his family name," he said, sounding a bit strangled. "Callamitus. And as a Callamitus was still at the school…"

Rose sucked in a sharp breath. She now knew why her mother had said that the cases were nearly identical. But could the signs be correct? The goblet of fire was saying that Dmitri had to compete in his brother's place?

"But this is not the same thing," objected Professor Ivanoff tensely. "Dmitri is a boy. He is below the age limit-"

"It does not matter," said Hermione. "The goblet had been up in red flames since Rafael's death. You know what that means."

"It wants a replacement champion," said Haufman. "It wants Dmitri."

Rose could not believe it. There was no such _thing_ as a replacement champion. But already the doubt was leaching in- had she done the extensive research her mother had? The book Hermione had sent about the history of the tournament was still under her bed, unopened; schoolwork had gotten to be a lot and she had not found much time for casual reading.

Dmitri spoke up before the men could launch into another argument. "So you say," he said, struggling to find the proper words, "you say, I am in tournament? Rafael, he enter family name, and I am here and I must be in tournament?"

Professor Ivanoff buried his face in his hands as Haufman nodded. "That is- er- well, you seem to have the general idea, yes. Now, naturally, it will not be expected from you to put your all into the competition- not that the third task holds much danger, certainly not- but anyways-"

"I vill do it proper." Dmitri's small head was tilted up in pride. "You haff note for me?"

Haufman looked at him blankly.

"He wants his clue," grumbled Professor Ivanoff.

"Ah."

Kingsley handed Haufman a folded square of parchment. Haufman gave it to Dmitri solemnly, saying, "That is your map. You will have to see how it lines up to the- er- the area."

Professor McGonagall touched Rose's shoulder. "I think it best if you return to your friends," she said softly, but Dmitri heard.

"And I vill go also," he said.

"Dmitri-" Professor Ivanoff began.

"I haff class," said Dmitri. "I finish mourning for purpose of class. I go."

Professor McGonagall led them from the room. Rose had forgotten that they were only feet away from the Great Hall. It was now the second half of the breakfast hour. Rose did not look at the Slytherin table as they passed, hoping that Professor McGonagall's presense would be enough to ward off any attacks.

They were led directly to their common room. "Laced liquors," McGonagall said to the Fat Lady, who nodded and swung open. Rose and Dmitri were shooed inside, the portrait closing directly behind them.

The boys were waiting right next to the portrait hole. "Not here," Rose said as they entered the common room. Albus nodded and led James and Lysander up to the boys' dormitory.

Once the door was closed, Rose collapsed onto one of the beds. Dmitri also sat, his expression blank.

"What happened?" asked Lysander, as Albus said, "Where _were_ you?"

Voice shaking, Rose explained the Callamitus Clause. The boys stared at her, wide-eyed with shock.

"Oh, you _cannot_ be serious," said James. "They can't _make_ him be a champion!"

"They made Dad," pointed out Albus.

"Well, he was actually entered in the tournament."

"So was Dmitri."

"But not by _name_."

"Family name is more important vhere I am," said Dmitri. He had unfolded the clue and was now staring at it intently. "Ivanoff say champions use family name before. Ve do not think it as a problem."

"It makes a certain amount of sense," said Lysander reluctantly. "Back when the tournament was first established, the goblet must have been enchanted to recognize entrants by their surname. If it picked the strongest surname…"

"Dmitri," said Rose, trying to decide the best way to broach the subject, "what do you think of Alistair Trimble?"

Instead of objecting, Albus sighed. "Fine. Talk to him about it. See what good it does."

"I do not like him," said Dmitri firmly. "He and Rafael… Rafael did not like. He did not speak to me vhy, but I know. Alistair is… _zlo_. Bad."

"So Alistair's the one behind everything," said James. "simple enough. He started that wonky storm, made everyone sick… That's one busy bloke."

"If it were as simple as putting those piece together, I would have told someone months ago," said Rose, huffing. "We still have no _proof_."

"We don't need proof," said James slyly. "We have magic."

Rose rolled her eyes. James tended to think of magic as a cure-all, which it certainly was not.

Albus had moved to sit next to Dmitri. "It's a map of… er… I'm not sure what," he said, rotating the parchment around. "Woah. I'd say that _that_-" He pointed to a spot on the parchment. "-is where you're going."

Rose peered over Dmitri's shoulder. The map was filled with harsh, jagged lines. In the midst of them, nearly buried under the mass of black, was a shimmering gold circle.

"It's a map to the Triwizard Cup," said Rose. "Get there first, and you win."

"But what _is_ it?" said James, his eyes narrowed in confusion.

Rose turned the map on its edge. All of the jagged lines flipped and tumbled around for a moment, then settled into new positions.

"Really, it's _four_ maps," said Rose, turning it again. Once again, the lines relocated themselves. Once they had settled, she examined the map once more.

"Maybe you have to get through four mazes," suggested James. "Oh! Or maybe it's an aerial obstacle course, and those are the rings you have to pass through."

"It could be a treasure map."

"Al, they wouldn't send them hunting for _treasure_."

When the bell rang, it came as a surprise to everyone. They all rushed to get their bags together and ran out of the common room, late for class.

The news of the Callamitus Clause spread through the school over the course of the morning. Rose was nearly late to Potions - she had found Dmitri trapped in a group of students, with James pulling out his wand from across the mass.

Potions class was nearly painful to endure. With no words of explanation, Scorpius had returned to his old partner, Callum Leach.

"It's just plain rude," complained Rose quietly as she mashed potion ingredients. "He could at least have said something, right?"

"You said you two had a bit of a row," said Albus. Rose had filled him in on her recent broomstick ride, as well as the group with Alistair.

"See, and there's another thing," she said. "He starts hanging about Alistair, then suddenly ignores me. Now, we fought over Alistair-"

"I thought you fought over him not wanting you at the group."

"No, that was just the start of it. Can you pass me- yes, whatever that is."

Potions turned out to be the least of her worries. Over lunch, Professor McGonagall announced that all future Foreign Studies lessons would be canceled.

"The decision was made by all three school heads," she said crisply. "Students shall use the free time as an opportunity to study for their final exams."

Yet another thing for Rose to worry about. She threw herself into her schoolwork, staying up hours after the common room had cleared out to study.

One of these nights, Victoire joined her. "The library is quite crowded," she explained. "Do you mind?"

Rose waved her over, and Victoire sat by the fire.

"I must apologize," Victoire said after a moment. "For my… my reaction to the news about Rafael. It was most unlike me."

"You were in shock," justified Rose. "It's fine."

Victoire shook her head. "I just keep thinking of that poor girl back at Durmstrang," she said quietly, "the one who was waiting for him to come home. What if they were going to get married?" She began to tear up. "I just keep seeing Teddy, falling from the vines, being revealed all torn up and crushed..."

Rose winced. James and Lysander had skipped over the specific details of Rafael's death, for which she was now glad.

Victoire, sniffling, took out a lacy handkerchief. "Louis tells me that you know about the letters," she said suddenly.

Rose didn't know what to do, so she just nodded.

"At first, I thought it was one of the Durmstrang boys," she continued. "Their English wasn't perfect. And what with Rafael living here- and always writing letters- and then he asked me to the Yule Ball..."

As Rose remembered it, _she_ had asked Victoire on Rafael's behalf, but that did not matter.

"But then the letters continued and- well, it was obviously not Rafael."

"Well not if he was dead, no," Rose said, rubbing her eyes. She was too exhausted to be polite.

Victoire sniffed daintily. "Never mind, then," she said. "You should go to bed. You're studying too hard."

Rose retired reluctantly, vowing to wake up early the next morning to do another chapter of Transfiguration.


	15. The Gemini

Rose put her copy of the Daily Prophet down. "They're still going at it," she said.

"Still?" said James, trying to read the newspaper upside down.

"Anyone would think they'd be over it by now," said Rose. "They only covered the second task for a week or so."

"This is different," Lysander pointed out. "A thirteen year old has been forced into the tournament. This hasn't happened since Uncle Harry."

"They all thought he wanted it," added James. "Everyone knows you don't want this, Dmitri."

Dmitri took a bite of his toast and said nothing.

It had been a month since the school had found out about the Callamitus Clause. A brief press statement had been made by Haufman, but the reporters were not satisfied with the limited information.

"They are trying to find your parents," said Rose, scanning the article. "McGonagall still won't let any reporters into the school, so they're trying other sources. It's not going well."

"Why don't they just go to Durmstrang?" asked James.

"It's Unplottable," responded Rose. "None of them know where it is. They're working on the Russian ministry, but no one's helping them."

"They von't find my parents," said Dmitri confidently.

"They've probably gone into hiding by now," agreed Rose. "Do they have jobs they could leave for a bit? I'm sure McGonagall would put them up in the castle."

"No," said Dmitri, "they vill not find my parents because they are dead."

A silence fell over their section of the table. "What?" said Rose "But – Rafael was - you said he was writing to them -"

"Rafael say me, do not say parents are dead," said Dmitri. "He say, problems vill come. I do not say."

He didn't seem at all disturbed by declaring his parents were dead. Tentatively, Albus said, "Did you - I mean was it recent?"

"Oh, no," said Dmitri. "They vill be... years. I vas little. Young."

No one quite knew what to say. Finally, Rose said, "Do you know why Rafael didn't want you to tell anyone?"

Dmitri's eyes hardened. "He vorned me. Ve... ve haff danger here. But no, he do not say who."

"Well, that explains why no one can track them down," said James casually. "What do you do over summer break? Stay with relatives?"

"No," said Dmitri. "Ve haff none. Ve liff at Durmstrang."

Under Dmitri's request, the group kept the information to themselves. Rose thought about the prospect of staying at school all year long - it was quite thrilling. The library at her constant disposal, the grounds asked her garden...

But she would miss her parents dreadfully. And there was Hugo to consider - he had just sent her a letter telling her about a Quidditch match he played with Albus and James's little sister Lily. They had teamed up and beaten Fred Weasley, Uncle George's son, and Adella Longbottom, who lived nearby with her mother. No, she wouldn't want to stay away for too long. But still…

One pair of tiny reporters was more difficult to deter them the rest.

"Hello again, Rose."

Rose looked up from her Charms book, startled by the high, young voice. A familiar child sat across from her - a child with short brown hair and a mischievous grin.

"How do you get into the castle?" asked Rose. "I know for certain that McGonagall has put a ban on reporters until the day before the third task."

The girl shrugged. "Never stopped us before. Our readers want information, so we'll give it to them. Simple as that."

"Where's the other... Geminus?" said Rose.

"Gemini," corrected the girl. "She went to grab a book from back there." She waved vaguely, then changed the subject. "So, where is that delightful friend of yours?"

"Albus?" asked Rose, feigning confusion. "He doesn't like speaking to the press. But James would be more than happy to meet with you."

The Gemini laughed, the sound high and tinkling like a wind chime. "I like you," she said decisively. "I knew you'd be willing to help. Now, I do not believe that Dmitri would be completely opposed to speaking to my twin and I."

"He's not allowed to," said Rose. "Professor Ivanoff isn't letting him do any interviews."

"Shame." She pouted. "Unless..." She paused deliberately, looking thoughtful. "Unless Professor Ivanoff didn't _know_ he was doing the interview."

"No," said Rose shortly. She looked back down to her book, done with the conversation. As she went to turn the page, an open magazine flopped down on the book.

"Look, I-"

She stopped. The magazine was open to large picture of Alistair Trimble. The accompanying article was titled _The First of Three_.

"I think we can come to some sort of agreement," said the Gemini. She wore an innocent, pleasant smile.

Rose considered the situation "Why would this article interests me?" she asked.

"Like I said, I think we can come to some sort of understanding." The Gemini glanced around, but Madame Abbott was nowhere in sight. "You see, I have it on good authority that you would like some information regarding our champion here."

Cautiously, Rose nodded. "I might, she said.

"Well then," said the Gemini, "I do believe we are in luck."

The other Gemini emerged from behind her twin. She carried a small book that was barely the size of her palm.

"Have we reached an accord?" she asked, taking a seat.

"Why, I do believe we have."

"Excellent."

"You found the book?"

"I did indeed. So when do we meet the boy?"

They both looked to Rose for the answer.

Rose hesitated. "What information is it that you're offering?" She asked.

"Pertinent information."

"Need to know details-"

"-of the utmost importance."

"It isn't much," the Gemini with the book admitted, "but trust us when we say it's something you will appreciate."

"We're free tomorrow afternoon," said Rose, though Dmitri was supposed to be in Potions class with James and Lysander at that time. He could miss a lesson- most of the teachers just looked at him sympathetically anyway.

"Perfect!"

"Superb."

"Excellent."

"So the situation with Alistair-"

"-which we were naturally shocked to learn about-"

"-truly dreadful thing it is -"

"Could you just tell me?" Rose huffed, growing impatient with their chatter.

The girls looked at each other, sighed, then said, "Fine."

"There was an incident a few years ago," began one Gemini, leaning forward. "Students were coming down with a mysterious illness."

"And doesn't _that_ just ring a bell," muttered Rose.

"The source was never tracked down, but rumors started circulating."

"People were saying that Alistair was involved," continued the second girl. "Suddenly, another Slytherin boy stepped forward and took the blame."

"Said he was madly in love with a girl and was trying to take down the people in her way."

"It was a scandal, really, seeing how she was taken."

"Taken?" said Rose. "As in, she was kidnapped?"

"No-"

"-though that would have made it more interesting."

"We meant," said one Gemini, "that she was the girlfriend of a very important person."

"I reckon you can guess who."

"None other than Alistair Trimble-"

"-and the lovely Lisana Blackwell."

"Did anyone question why that boy would suddenly give himself up?" asked Rose "I mean, no one found it suspicious?"

"Of course they did-"

"-but the entire affair was well set up."

"The boy was in the Great Hall, approaching the Slytherin table—"

"—and Lisana Blackwell stood and began to talk with him-"

"— and he appeared to have quite the breakdown, he did."

"He was sobbing like mad-"

"—and when McGonagall approached him-"

"— he started screaming his confession."

Rose could see it: Lisana Blackwell standing, approaching a faceless boy in black robes. What would she have done, an Imperious Curse while no one was looking?

"So Alistair put a friend up as a scapegoat?" She said. "Not a great way to encourage trust."

"Not at all."

"Dreadful plan really..."

"We've been in touch with a friend of yours," said one Gemini, changing the subject abruptly. "He made some references to certain theories of yours-"

"-which you have not been nearly secretive enough about, I might add."

"I might agree. Don't worry, we'll work on that with you."

"Trusting the right people and all-"

"-you are actually markedly good that for one so young-"

"-but mainly controlling the flow of your information."

"For instance, we should not have been able to find out that you blame Alistair for that storm that destroyed the Durmstrang ship-"

"-the dead bird through the window-"

"-that illness which went around during Christmas time-"

"-only affecting those attending the Yule Ball, as you still keenly observed-"

"-as well as various other incidents occurring over the course of the year-"

"-the greatest of which being Rafael's untimely death."

"This is pretty weird," said Rose, unnerved. "If you know all of this, why haven't you done something about it? You could have during the first task." She had not forgotten their masquerade as the creators of the Pandora's boxes nor Rafael's claim that an attack had been made on his life. If only he had only kept speaking...

Another thought struck her. "I'm sorry, I have someplace to go," she said, her mind already flown from the small girls seated across from her. She did not bother returning her books- she grabbed her bag and left the room quickly.

Dmitri was playing wizard's chess in a corner of the common room. He waved Rose over, which gave Albus an opportunity to take his knight.

"Dmitri," she said not bothering with the greeting, "if your brother didn't have a love at home, and your parents are dead, who was he always writing to?"

He frowned. "I know not," he said. "He say, do not touch this box. I do not touch."

"Did you have friends at home?" pushed Rose. "Anyone he would be sending so many letters to?"

"Ve can check," said Dmitri, "but vhy this is important?"

Albus was giving Rose and incredulous look, as if she was being insensitive. "I was about to ask the same thing," he muttered.

Rose refused to tell them until they were up in the second year boys' dormitory. "I just had a discussion with the Gemini," she explained.

"Those little reporters?" Said Albus. "Why were they in the castle?"

"That doesn't matter," said Rose quickly. "We were talking about Alistair and I was thinking about Rafael in the hospital wing, and the dead raven... and something just clicked in my head. There's something we're not seeing."

Dmitri knelt on the foot of his bed. "They give things of Rafael to me," he said, pulling the writing case his brother had always had with him out of his trunk. "I half not- I do not go through items. Cannot... too soon..."

Rose nodded. "I understand but..."

"It is good," he reassured her. "It is case for letters. It vill not be bad."

He opened the case, which extended vertically across the floor. Dmitri passed by the dark blue inkwells, feathered quills, and sticks of sealing wax. In the rightmost compartment lay a bundle of parchment tied with a length of maroon yarn.

Dmitri undid the tie and spread the letters out on the floor. Some of them were blank, some unfinished, and some of them were already sealed with a thick, red seal in the shape of an R. One letter, still unsealed, bore an intricate drawing on its face.

Wordlessly, Rose took it from the floor. She ran her fingers along the warped surface of the parchment, pausing over the spots with the quill had dug in, leaving dark marks in deeper runs.

In the midst of a thicket of thorns, Rafael had drawn a rose.

She unfolded the paper letter. The design wrapped around the corners, and went away before the top of the writing.

_Rose_, she read

_I hope you never read this. I work on this for long time. I do not want Dmitri be hurt. Please do not show this of him._

_Say him to speak of our parents. He will know the words I want. Do not anger at him. He will hurt._

_Please make safety for him. Life will not be easy. You must say of Ivanov to leave Hogwarts. It is not safe of Dmitri being there._

_I want I could explain you more but I cannot. I ask only that you keep my vrana alive._

_I thank you for the eternity_.

_Rafael_

Rose was suddenly aware of wetness on her cheeks. She wiped it away- she had thought she was all cried out, but the letter brought back the memories.

Dmitri was scanning through the other letters. "I cannot read," he said putting them down. "I don't know to who they are for. But they are all... all..." he shook his head hopelessly.

Rose leaned over to look at one of the letters. It was not in English - the alphabet seemed to be completely foreign. By Dmitri's reaction, it was not Russian either.

That reminded her- "Dmitri, do you know what _vrana_ means?" She sounded the word out phonetically.

"_Vrana_?" he said. "It is, it is little… small black bird. The... raven, you call it."

Albus looked up from the letter he had been squinting at. "Like the dead raven in the hospital wing? he said.

Dmitri's eyes widened. "He named me... he make me _vrana_," he said slowly. "I am his little bird."

His eyes began to tear up. In all the time since Rafael's death, Rose had not seen Dmitri shed a single tear. The journey back from the third-floor corridor had been numb, disbelieving. Lysander told her once that he could hear sniffles sometimes at night, but by day, Dmitri wore a steadfast, sturdy mask of determination.

"Dmitri," said Albus softly, "who would want to have used you to threaten your brother?"

Dmitri shook his head. He opened his mouth to speak then stopped, gritting his teeth against the oncoming tears.

"There's no one but Alistair!" exclaimed Rose, hoping that they would finally see it. "I know it, Lysander knows it, the _Gemini_ know it-"

"They agree with you?" said Albus.

"Yes! They told me about years ago, when he first started taking out his enemies. They were accidents, but he managed to pin the blame on someone else. But now he's doing it again, I just know it!"

"Rose," said Albus patiently, "you have to consider the possibility that maybe-"

"But I'm right!" she cried.

"No, you're not!" responded Albus angrily. "You're smart, but you're not perfect. You need to just let this die down. Dmitri will compete in the third task. Alistair will finish this year, and then he will be gone."

"But-"

"We're not our parents!" Albus exploded. Rose stared at him, feeling like she had been slapped.

"What?"

"I said, we are not our parents," he repeated. "We are not going to find Dark wizards everywhere we turn. Those days are over, Rose. It's not like that anymore. Things like this, they don't land on us. If something needs to be done, then the adults will do it."

Rose stood, her nose flaring. Her mind, usually so quick and decisive, could come up with no response for such an attack. Without a word, she left the room, feeling much like someone had taken all the air from her lungs.

She did not speak to Albus for the rest of the night. He sat with Louis and a group of the other older boys at dinner, pointedly ignoring Rose, who couldn't help but glance his way.

She only remembered the upcoming interview with the Gemini after lunch had been cleared away the next day. She caught up with Dmitri in the entrance hall as he was setting off towards Potions.

"So I may have told the Gemini that they could speak with you in exchange for the information about Alistair," she said all in a rush. "Would you mind?"

Dmitri took a moment to make sense of the words, then shrugged. "I speak vith you. I speak vith Albus. I speak vith James. I speak vith the Gemini."

He wasn't understanding what she meant. "They're going to ask about the tournament," she warned, "and Rafael."

"You ask about the tournament," Dmitri countered deftly, "and too Rafael. I vill not mind."

"But this is different," Rose pressed on. "What you say to them... it's not only to them. More people will read about it."

Dmitri pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I do not care," he said slowly. "Ivanoff say, do not talk... but he is not me, and vhat is happening is to me, not to he."

There was no time to think over what he had said. Rose thought about where the Gemini might be- they have not agreed upon a meeting place before Rose had run off the day before. After a moment of deliberation, Rose decided to try the library.

When they entered the room, Madame Abbott was not behind her usual table. However, two identical brown heads were just visible in the corner. The Gemini's faces were obscured by that morning's issue of the Daily Prophet.

"Anything interesting?" Rose asked, sitting across from them. She had been too busy that morning thinking about her argument with Albus to read her copy.

"Not really."

"Rather boring."

"They're all speculating."

"Poor dears."

Dmitri's eyes widened to the size of galleons. He was not used to the Gemini and their patterns of speech. "If you would," he said politely, "might you... speak more slowly? And I do not know your names."

The Gemini looked at each other. Rose expected them to change the subject, but instead, they shrugged.

"I'll be Gemma-"

"-And I'll be Genna."

Dmitri looked between the two, then reached into his pocket. He pulled out a length of red yarn that Rose recognized from holding together Rafael's letters. Handing it to Gemma, he said, "For tell you apart when you are... as one."

With an unexpected grin, Gemma wrapped the yarn around her tiny wrist. "I like him too," she told Genna. "This should go well."

"Very well, I should like to think."

Genna pulled out an oversized pad of parchment and handful of charcoal sticks, much like the ones Lorcan used to do his drawings. "Don't mind me," she quipped, squinting at Dmitri as her hand began moving in large strokes across the park. "We do sketches for all of our features."

Next to her twin, Gemma had taken out a pad, an inkwell, and a quill. "As long as you're ready, we'll begin."

Rose found that she was able to relax during the interview. The questions begin with Dmitri's basic information-– birth date, age, hometown. Rose learned that his favorite color was blue, and his favorite game was (not surprising, seeing how he had spent his Christmas vacation) wizard's chess.

There were some points where Rose had to marvel at how easily Dmitri was able to lie. When asked about his parents, he laughed, his eyes crinkling.

"My parents are very private people," he said. "Vhen I hear last, they stay vith Uncle Reynick. He do hiding spells."

"I feel sorry for your Uncle Reynick," said Gemma, her quilt darting across her pad. "Those reporters could be brutal."

Rose took a peek at Gemma's notes. The Gemini was controlling the quill with only the tips of her fingers. The marks on the pad were illegible to Rose; she supposed it was some kind of shorthand.

Gemma caught Rose peaking and clucked her tongue. It was a disconcerting sound to hear from eight-year-old.

Dmitri seemed unconcerned when Gemma asked about the third task. "I haff my... how to say... clue," he said, "and I haff hope. No more I could do."

A few minutes later, Genna set her charcoal sticks down. "Done," she announced, reviewing her drawn with a pleased, cat-like half smile. "Care to see?"

The piece was not what Rose had expected. The most prominent feature was Dmitri's eyes - deep and striking, they took up most of the drawing. Around the world assortment of objects they had coverage during the interview, one of which being a coil of yarn.

"That's... wow," murmured Rose, leaning closer to get a better look. The featured objects were worked through Dmitri's deeply shaded hair, and seemed to be features on his face, which was almost a background. "This is-"

"Pretty good," said Genna, taking it back. "I know. It's what we do. Do you like it?" She asked Dmitri.

"Yes," he said, very quiet. "Yes, I like a lot."

"We'll send you both a copy once it's printed," said Gemma. "As a matter of fact- Rose, we'll be adding you to our permanent list. They're out once a month or so, depending on the state of things."

"I think I'll like that," said Rose, appreciated the gesture. "Who reads Scribblings anyway? I'd never heard of it before this year."

If the Gemini were offended, they did not show it. "It's underground," explains Gemma, "so naturally you wouldn't hear about it."

"Underground?" said Rose skeptically. "As in illegal?"

"Not at all," said Gemma. "Just..."

"... A bit on the down low."

"You certainly understand-"

"-what with the nature of this interview -"

"I understand," said Rose quickly. "Thanks."

"We'll be seeing you shortly," Genna told Dmitri with the wily glint in her eye. "You can count on it."

Dmitri's brow wrinkled. "I can... I can count it?" he said, befuddled.

The Gemini laughed and rose. "We'll be around," promised Gemma, tapping her new bracelet. "Rose... keep in touch."

Rose was about to protest that she had no way of contacting them, but stopped just before doing so. If the Gemini wanted to get in touch with her, they would find a way.


	16. Confessions and Conclusions

Scribblings arrived in mid-May. The Gemini had sent a note:

_Hope you enjoy. We'll be around after the third task for a follow-up with Dmitri. If you need us, you'll be able to find us. If not, an owl by the name of Dido is good to find us. She's up at the Owlery most days. Give her a cracker and she'll bite. We stick to lemon drops and caramel chews._

_See you on the 20th!_

_GG_

That reminded Rose just how near the final task was. It was a bit more than a month away - June 20, moved up from the 28th at Madame Maxime's request. The French students took a different vacation than the Hogwarts ones, and this fit into their schedule better.

Rose looked at the cover of Scribblings. The main image was the drawing of Dmitri, but it had been magically enhanced. His large eyes now blinked slowly and twinkled with color. The red yarn coiled and uncoiled rapidly, like it too was blinking. In the background, a winged horse flapped its metal wings—it was a Granian, the dangerous breed of horses that occupied Dmitri's home country.

The article was in the centerfold of the magazine. A smaller picture of Dmitri was in the lower left-hand corner - in this one, his hair was a shimmering golden blonde, and his eyes sparkled green. There were repetitions of the drawing throughout the article in various colors. Rose's personal favorite was one where Dmitri's hair was bright blue, much like Teddy Lupin's usual color.

She scanned the article. It read pretty much the way the interview had run - straightforward with a quirky twist. As she read, the font changed color from black to red to green, then back to black. It was quite unnerving.

The rest of May and the start of June disappeared before Rose realized what had happened. She tried to balance studying for finals, which were approaching at a dizzying speed, and helping Dmitri decipher his clue.

"I don't get it," she complained one night in the common room. "Haufman said that it was a map, but a map of what?"

She flipped the parchment on its side and watched as the small black lines tumbled around, then settled. The golden dot was in a different spot that before.

"Perhaps you have to climb something," she guessed, "and these are your handholds."

"Or they're sending you into the Forbidden Forest," suggested James. "The lines might be different creatures you have to fight, but only one has the cup."

Dmitri looked at the map glumly. "I change mind," he sighed, rubbing his face wearily. "I haff no hope. I haff not time and I am... somewhere with map of mystery."

"Don't give up yet," said Rose. She was determined for him to keep his resolve. "Here, I'm going to copy over the map in each position. We can see if they overlap or form some sort of... pattern."

So instead of studying for her Transfiguration final (which is bound to be easy, seeing the ratio of theory to practical lessons Professor Randor had taught), Rose spent the night attempting to re-create the four positions of the map. By the end of the evening, her hands were stained with ink and her eyes were beginning to ache.

"That's the best I could do," she said with a tinge of defeat in her voice. Her maps were far from perfect - she was certain she had missed some lines, but it was too late for her to fix them that night.

Albus looked at them for a moment, then shook his head and handed them to Lysander. "You're better at this sort of thing," he said.

"Nah," demurred Lysander, "it's more Lorcan's thing." Still, he seemed confident when he pulled his wand out.

"_Unos Luna_," he said, tapping the circle on each map that represented the golden points. Each point turned into a thin pillar of bright light.

Lysander lay the maps on top of each other. The points of light shone through the other maps, giving the topmost layer the appearance of having four points.

"I was hoping they'd form some sort of shape," he said, disappointed. The point seems scattered randomly.

"But they don't all fit on the same map," Rose pointed out. "See? The lines are all still in different places."

Lysander tried the same spell on the jagged lines in one map, but they couldn't make it line up with any of the others.

"Maybe it's a red herring," said James, leaning back in his chair. "A false clue. Maybe it doesn't mean anything at all."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Right. They devised a false clue so the champions would be thrown off. What would the point of that be?"

"It's possible said James defensively."Better than anything we have now, at least."

Unfortunately, he was correct. No matter how long they looked at it, the map made no more sense than the first time they had seen it.

With finals so close, Rose could devote no more time to the map. She stuck herself in a quiet spot in the common room from the time classes ended until her eyelids were so heavy, they obstructed her reading. Even then, it was not uncommon for Dominique to shake her awake as she returned from her prefects' patrol.

All of her worrying turned out to be for nothing. As she had predicted, Transfiguration was comprised of a series of theory questions straight from the textbook. She was done in half the time allotted for the exam and spent the remaining hour checking her answers and thinking about maps.

The other exams flashed by. Professor Evariste's test was comprised of questions about technique, incantations, and experiments that they had done in class. Rose laughed when she reached number 38:

_Describe what would have occurred if Mr. Leach's stunning spell had ricocheted into the glass bottle by the window. For bonus points, identify the contents of aforementioned bottle and name the wizard who discovered it._

Her elation over her final exams being complete was cut short. Waiting just outside the door was Alastair Trimble. Being a champion, he was exempt from his final exams - Rose wondered what that meant for his NEWTs.

Scorpius was one of the first to leave the room. Alistair gave the younger boy a grin, and together, they walked off.

Of course they'd be together, reasoned Rose bitterly. It _is_ Friday.

Which meant that there were only four days until the third task. Now that exams were over, Rose was able to give the maps are full attention.

For the next two days, Rose hardly left the Gryffindor Tower. She, Dmitri, Albus, and James took over the second-year boys' dormitory, sprawling out on the floor with the maps.

"What if we're looking at them upside down?" said Rose, looking at the map Albus held. "Albus, put that down."

Once the map was flat on the floor, Rose was able to regard it differently. Instead of seeing the jagged lines as peaks, she saw them as holes or ditches.

"Maybe there holes you have to dig," she said, "or... mines to avoid?"

Even she was running out of ideas. Lysander arrived a few minutes later with an overflowing tray of food and a hopeful half smile.

"Lorcan dropped us off for us," he said, setting the tray down on the bed. None of them had bothered to leave the tower for dinner. "Rose, he also left a note for you."

Rose unfolded the parchment he handed her. It contained not a note, per se - it was done in charcoal, not ink. It had smudged a bit but was still legible.

Scrawled messages were scattered across the page. _Never forgotten - missing you - we will remember - we won for you - you died for the cause you lived for._

"I don't understand," she said, showing it to Lysander. "Did he say he had some sort of vision?"

"Didn't say anything about it," said Lysander, reading the words over. "Just told me it was for you. Hrm."

Rose meant to find Lorcan the next morning, but it was late when she finally went to bed and she only woke with the first bell rang. Neville waved off her apologies as she stumbled into the greenhouse.

"Don't be silly, Rose," he said. "Finals are over, we're just talking about next year's curriculum. What do you think of teaming up with Professor Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures class once a month or so to examine how certain creatures interact with plants?"

"Sounds great," she said "Herbs and animals and the like, right?"

"That's my Rose."

She was able to catch Lorcan in between the two lunch sectors the next day. "Thanks for the picture," she said, "but what is it?"

He shrugged. "I was with Professor Trelawney after my exams were done," he said. "She's trying to help me train my Inner Eye. That's what I saw - a wall with words on it."

Rose let him go to lunch. She couldn't make any sense of the words and decided to set them out of her mind. The third task was the next day, which meant that sometime this afternoon, Professor McGonagall would be letting a swarm of reporters onto the Hogwarts grounds. And still, they had made no progress on the maps.

In lieu of the impending task - and, Rose thought, the fact that reporters would be everywhere - classes have been canceled. As exams were over, they were rather superfluous at this point anyway. All of the professors were just going over the finals, or talking about next year.

Rose decided to go the library for one last look at any books they had on maps. None of them had been of any help so far, but maybe she had missed something.

"Good morning, dear," said Madame Abbott with a sweet smile. "Still looking for a book on maps?"

"Either maps or symbols," said Rose. "I don't even know what to look at anymore."

"How about I pull out some books with maps of the Hogwarts grounds?" suggested Madame Abbott. "You may find something of use to you in one of them."

Rose helped her pull out several books, then sat in an empty table with them. She was the only one in the library besides Madame Abbot. Everyone else must have been in their common rooms or eating.

None of the symbols on the maps matched the jagged lines on Dmitri's parchment. Rose had just opened a familiar tome when someone pulled up a chair opposite her.

"Nothing," she said, thumbing through the pages without looking up. "It's really quite frustrating -"

"I need to talk to you."

Now she looked up. Scorpius Malfoy's face was tight, his eyes a mixture of fear and something like denial.

"I thought we were no longer on speaking terms," said Rose coolly. "No need to change that. And I am quite busy -"

"Please," he said. "It's important."

Rose pursed her lips. "As is this."

Scorpius sighed. "Don't be difficult, Rose. I need your help."

"Oh?"

"Can we go somewhere to talk?" he said. "It's -"

"Important," she interrupted. "So you said. Well, right here is as good a place as any."

Scorpius glared at her but dropped the matter. "Fine, we'll do it here if you want. It's about Alistair."

"I'm listening," said Rose, her interest piqued. What could Scorpius have to say about the Hogwarts champion?

"I went to his - his meeting on Friday," said Scorpius, his eyes drifting away from Rose's. "We usually stay in the common room. People just... clear out what he wants us to use it."

Rose snorted. "Of course."

Ignoring her, Scorpius continued. "Well, last Friday, we went back to Slughorn's room. I could tell Alistair had something important he wanted to talk about, but he never brought it up.

"But the other boys did. They kept talking about something that was going to happen - something about 'the boy'. And then... James Baena said something about how the slide would be just another tragic accident."

"Slide?" said Rose, though her mind was already trying to wrap around the second part of the statement.

"I couldn't figure out exactly what they were talking about," admitted Scorpius, "but Rose, I think they're planning something for the third task. For Dmitri."

Rose's stomach lurched. "They wouldn't," she replied automatically, but she knew that they would. Hadn't Alistair already killed one student this year? What difference did it make to him, one or two?

"Alistair spoke to me after," said Scorpius, seeming to be in a rush to get all the words out. "He wanted to know what I thought of what everyone had talked about."

"He wanted to know what you thought of the plan," said Rose.

"I...er..." Scorpius hesitated, not meeting Rose's piercing gaze.

"You didn't say anything, did you?"

"What could I have done?" protested Scorpius. "I came and told you, didn't I?"

Her mind was still trying to grasp what Scorpius had told her. Looking down, she realized that she'd chosen the same book with the map of the original Hogwarts grounds, the one she had used while researching the tournament. The castle was represented by a cluster of rectangles that overlapped; Hogsmeade contained still more rectangles -

And jagged black lines.

"The mountains," she gasped. "Scorpius, they're mountains!"

"What?" he said. "_What_ are mountains?"

"These lines," she said, showing him the page with a triumphant grin. "_Mountains_, Scorpius, _mountains!_"

"Yes, they are right outside of Hogsmeade village," he said warily. "Have you never seen them?"

Now she felt incredibly stupid. How many times had she gone to Hogsmeade with her parents or cousins? She should have realized what the jagged lines represented.

"Of course I have," she said. "We go there a lot. One time there was this rockslide -"

She stopped short, her mouth hanging open. Scorpius registered her words a moment later.

"Tell me those mountains have nothing to do with the task tomorrow," he said slowly. "Just tell me that."

"Rockslide," she whispered. It was so simple. People wouldn't automatically be suspicious of something so natural. It couldn't be too difficult to knock a thirteen year old boy from the face of the mountain.

"No," she moaned. "No, no, no, no, no, no..."

"We have to do something," said Scorpius. "He can't just - I don't care if - what we-"

"We have to tell someone," said Rose. "Someone must be able to - I mean they have to be able to stop this." She realized, "I think Professor Evariste will listen to us."

But when they reached his room, the door was locked. Rose pounded on it, but finally, Scorpius stopped her.

"He's not here," he said. "What about McGonagall?"

Rose hesitated. She wanted to go back to the common room and speak with Albus, but they had still not fully healed from their argument. They were cordial, and worked with Dmitri to help them prepare for the third task, but she thought a part of him still resented her for trying to be something he thought they could not be. And wouldn't this just be the sort of thing he would balk at doing?

But on the other hand, it was Dmitri's life at stake. "I need to stop by my common room," she told Scorpius. "Albus should know what's going on."

"What about Dmitri?" Scorpius asked as they walked. "Do you want to tell him?"

"And give him one more thing to panic over?" she said. "No, definitely not. We can take care of this."

The Fat Lady let out a dramatic sigh upon seeing Rose approaching. "About time one of you showed up," she said. "I was just about to ask the blokes in the watchman portrait to start searching the castle."

"What do you mean?" asked Rose.

"You and your friends have been first back to the common room for weeks," said the Fat Lady. "And now none of you return from breakfast! Helping out Dmitri for the third task?"

"Yes," said Rose absently, walking away. She barely heard the Fat Lady call, "Aren't you coming in?"

Scorpius caught up with her. "Would Dmitri be in interviews already?" He asked.

"No," said Rose, "not until later. McGonagall put them as late as possible for him. They gave him a list - hold on, I copied it down..."

She pulled a folded bit of parchment from her pocket, but it was not the itinerary professor McGonagall had given to Dmitri. It was Lorcan's drawing.

"It's a drawing my friend Lorcan did," she explained to Scorpius, who looked at it with wide eyes. "He's working with Professor Trelawney. He's got potential as a Seer, even this young. All year, he's been seeing things in drawing them for me. We don't know what this one is yet."

"Does he usually make more than one of them?" said Scorpius. Before Rose could respond, he reached into his pocket and pulled a folded square of parchment. "I found this in front of my common room door," he said, "but I haven't figured out what it is yet. It had my name on the back of it."

Rose compared the two drawings, and found they were identical. "He didn't say anything to me about giving you another one," she said, confused.

Scorpius examined the two. "Anything at all to do with third task?" he asked.

"Not unless it's -"

She stopped and stared at parchment in wonder.

"Anytime you wish to clue me in," said Scorpius, doing his best to be patient.

"There's one cave I know about in the mountains," said Rose. "One. And I've never been up there, but I know that there's writing on the walls. All of this - these words would make sense."

"But what does that mean?" asked Scorpius. "Both of us have these drawings. Are we supposed to go up there or something? Is that where the rockslide will happen?"

"I don't know," Rose admitted, "but whenever Lorcan gives me a drawing like this, I end up going wherever he has drawn. Always."

Scorpius drew in a deep breath. "So we go," he said. "All of our Galleons in one purse. Trust your friend and hope he's right."

"What if he's not?" said Rose. "He's hardly perfect, and this - that may not even be what he meant."

Cracking a half smile, Scorpius replied, "Well at the moment, I am more inclined to trust your friends than my own."

He had a valid point.

"Getting out of the castle shouldn't be too difficult today," said Rose as she though through a potential plan. "The reporters will be in and out—we can slip through the main doors as they're coming in."

"And just hope that no one sees us," said Scorpius.

"Exactly." She dug in her pocket and found another square of parchment. "Here's the schedule for Dmitri's interviews. We'll want to leave as soon as possible… Ah, here we are. The first one is…"

"In less than twenty minutes," said Scorpius, "which means that the reporters will be coming in…"

"Now!"

They looked at each other, eyes wide. It was an all or nothing moment.

"Are you sure about this?" asked Rose softly. "If we're right, this is big."

Scorpius set his mouth in a hard line. "I've made my choice," he said. "I… Yes, I'm sure."

They made their way down to the front doors. As they had predicted, the doors stood open. Every minute or so, a pair of reporters would come through, snapping pictures or dictating notes to an assistant. Rose and Scorpius hid out behind a pair of agitated suits of armour until there was a break in the flow of people.

"C'mon," Rose whispered, gesturing for Scorpius to follow her. Together, they slipped through the main doors.

"Stay cool," said Scorpius, slowing Rose's hurried pace. "If we just look like we're doing what we're supposed to be doing, no one will stop us. It's all about believability."

They passed reporters, who acted like they were invisible. The path wore on until they reached a large set of gates. Professor McGonagall was standing there, along with—Rose could hardly be surprised—the Gemini.

"Gasia and Gesia from the Scottish Witch Gazette," said Gemma, digging through her bag. "One moment, the credentials are in here somewhere… Oh!"

Her bag split down the middle. Items rolled everywhere—cameras, marbles, coils of thread, parchment and quills.

"Dear me!" she said. "Oh, that's just awful."

"Here, let me help," offered Professor McGonagall. The three women knelt and began to gather the items.

Genna poked her head up from the ground. She winked at Rose and Scorpius, then jerked her head towards the open gates. Smiling in thanks, Rose dragged Scorpius behind her and through the gates as quickly and quietly as possible.

"They're friends," she explained to Scorpius as they hurried beyond the Hogwarts gates. "Don't worry, they won't tell anyone."

"If you say so," muttered Scorpius.

They immersed themselves into the Hogsmeade crowd. Rose was surprised to see groups of other students roaming about the streets.

"Scorpius," she said, "I think it's our lucky day."

"What?" he said.

"There was a trip to Hogsmeade today, wasn't there?"

He grinned. "Perfect."

They were able to hide out in shops and pubs for the remainder of the afternoon. When night fell, they found a large oak tree by the side of the road. Sitting behind it, they ate sandwiches Rose had bought from a shop.

"What now?" said Scorpius when they finished.

"Now?" Rose stood, brushing her robes down as she surveyed the surrounding area. "Now, we walk."


	17. The Most Noble and Ancient House ofBlack

It was an odd experience, walking through Hogsmeade in the dead of night. Some pubs were still open - Rose and Scorpius ducked past their lit windows quickly. There were a few people who passed them in the street, but they seemed to not see the young students.

"I suppose you don't stop to ask questions this late at night," murmured Rose as an elderly witch with a suspiciously large bulging bag tottled past.

They reached the last stretch of shops, all of which were closed. Using the moonlight, Rose stepped off the much-traversed lane onto a beaten-down dirt path that wound up towards the mountain.

"The site of the third task," she sighed. It looks the same as it ever did, but maybe that was the point. If it changed, people would notice.

"We're going to that cave up there," she said, pointing out a small opening in the rock face. "I don't think the climb will be too bad."

Scorpius eyed the incline dubiously. "If you say so," he said with a sigh. "Remind me again why we're doing this?"

"Alistair. Evil plan. Rockslide. Dmitri."

"Ah." He still looks doubtful. "How about you tell me more about this evil plan once we're up there?"

"Sounds like a plan to me," she said.

The ascent was not as difficult as it looked. Rose let Scorpius, who was the more agile of two, lead the way. She always kept an eye on the opening of the cave as she climbed, making sure they were not setting off in the wrong direction.

Finally, she and Scorpius climbed through the mouth of the cave. They were both taking deep, exhausted breaths.

"I wish I had taken my broom," said Scorpius once his breathing had returned to normal speed. "So much easier."

Rose pulled out her wand and said, "_Lumos_." The light fell against the back of the cave. Scorpius, who had turned to see what she was doing, gaped.

"Whoa."

The entire back wall of the cave was covered in words. They were mixed together in a mass of charcoal and paint, chalk and ashes. It matched up with the drawing in Rose's pocket and extended further downward. Above all the messages it read: _The Most Noble and Ancient House of Black._

Rose felt herself tearing up as she stepped closer to the wall. She recognized her mother's neat, precise letters; the slanted scribble of her father, her uncle's harsh script. There were others messages as well, handwriting that Rose did not recognize.

"It's Sirius' cave," she explained to Scorpius, sniffing back the tears. "Mum and Dad and Uncle Harry came back after the war. They told us they left messages to him. Their thanks."

Scorpius leaned closer to read a loopy, a fully flourished line that read: _Watching us from behind the veil._

"So Lorcan wanted us to come here?" said Scorpius, continuing to examine the wall.

"I was with Dmitri during the second task," explained Rose. "We were walking in a room that Lorcan had been drawing since September. If he's drawing this place, and now... I think this is it."

They sat at the base of the wall, setting Rose's lit wand between them. "Tell me," said Scorpius, "why do you hate Alistair so much?"

"Are you really asking me that?" she said, shocked. "Look where we are. He's trying to kill one of my friends. Again."

"But besides that," said Scorpius, as if Dmitri's planned death was of no great importance. "Albus told me that you've distrusted him since he became champion."

Rose sighed. "He was always arguing with Rafael," she said, "and one time, I'm pretty sure I caught him threatening Rafael with Dmitri. So when everything started to go wrong around Rafael - the freak storm, that sickness that wouldn't leave - I looked to Alistair, and they don't make sense."

"But what if you're wrong?" he asked.

"But what if I'm right and I do nothing?" she retorted. "Scorpius, don't you see? I _have_ to do this. I can't just sit back and hope that my instincts are wrong."

They sat in silence for a moment as Scorpius mulled over what Rose had said.

Rose hesitated for a moment, then spoke. "Scorpius... can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he said, immediately wary. "What's up?"

"I was wondering... why did you start ignoring me?"

He did not respond.

"I'm not -" She wanted to say that she wasn't mad, but that would've been a lie. "I just want to know," she said instead.

"You're going to be unbearable after this," Scorpius groaned. "Fine. It had to do with Alistair."

Rose raised a brow. "Oh?"

"Don't gloat," said Scorpius with a scowl. "It's just - never mind."

"Ah, come on," Rose prodded, "we were about to go over how I was right about Alistair all along."

Scorpius continued to glower at her. "I never knew you were such a braggart," he complained.

"And I never knew that you were such a big baby," she retorted. "So Alistair said that we shouldn't be friends?"

"Basically, said Scorpius. "He said—heh, it sounds so stupid now—he said you and Albus were trying to get close to me so your parents could get to my dad."

Rose had to laugh. "Oh, he's discovered our plan," she said, feigning worry. "What will we do _now_? Cause Mum and Dad couldn't have found a time over the past, oh, twenty years to find your dad if they wanted to."

"I know," said Scorpius, "it's mental."

"Not as mental as the fact that you believed it," said Rose. She was surprised to find that under all of her laughter, the news stung a little bit.

"Of course I didn't," objected Scorpius immediately. Rose raised a brow, and he sighed. "Alright, so I thought it could be true. It—well, it made sense."

"Because Albus and I spend all of our time with you talking about the past," said Rose flatly. "We ask about your family and want to know when we can meet them, is that it?"

"_Why_ would you want to be my friend?" asked Scorpius, his voice thin and tense. "All of my life—my father, he told me that all I could do was avoid you and your family and your friends and your _kind_."

"My _kind_?" objected Rose. "What do you mean, my _kind_?"

Scorpius ignored her. "All I could do was do my best to keep my head down and stay out of whatever happens in this cursed _school_. Because my dad was in the middle of it all, and he doesn't want that for me. But now…

"And I tried," he continued. "I stayed away from Alistair and his friends. I knew what they did, and I stayed away. I didn't _make_ friends. I stuck to my books and learned as much as I could. Hell, I didn't even _fly_ around people!"

"I thought you were shy," said Rose mutely.

"I have to be," said Scorpius. "And you, you come around I find that you're perfectly decent. You didn't cause a scene when Slughorn put us together in class. And Al, he's great to, and it just doesn't make sense."

"So when Alistair said we were just teasing you, it made sense," said Rose slowly, beginning to understand. "You were told that we'd be one way, and even though we weren't, it was easier to believe that we were."

"I tried to ignore it," said Scorpius, "but even the little things started getting to me. Alistair invited me to hang out with some of his friends, and even though I knew... I said yes."

He shook his head. "I couldn't figure it out when he asked you to come that night. We had gotten into an argument -"

"An argument?" said Rose. "About what?"

"He was talking about Dmitri," said Scorpius. "One of his friends made a joke about Rafael, and I - I just lost it, I guess. Said where I thought he should put those jokes of his."

"Did he get mad?" Rose could just imagine Alistair's cool demeanor cracking, his smooth features contorting in anger.

But Scorpius said, "No. It was weird... He just laughed. He sat there laughing, and Baena and Faustino were staring at me... When I went down to my dorm, he was still laughing."

Rose shiverred. That image was just as chilling.

"Then you asked if I'd go flying and I decided to give you another chance." Scorpius sighed and shook his head "I was still... Alistair showed up on the pitch and I panicked. I thought he was trying to use you to get back at me or something.

"He acted like nothing happened between us," he continued. "I went back to his groups, but when they started talking about Dmitri and the rock slide, I knew what I had to do."

"You came to me," said Rose. "Why?"

"I was just hoping you'd hear me out," said Scorpius. "I've treated you like dirt, and I was half expecting you to just ignore me, or hit me with a Bat-Boogey Hex or something."

"That would be Albus' job," laughed Rose. "He has a special spot for hexes."

Rose and Scorpius both leaned back against the cool rock walls. Now that he was leaning back, Scorpius face was no more than an indistinct black slate in the shadows.

"Well, I guess I'm glad you told me," said Rose at last. "Now we get to sit here and hope that we were right."

Scorpius sighed. "Put your trust in Lorcan, I suppose," he said.

Rose yawned, not used to being up at such a late hour. "I'm taking a nap," she said. "You do the same. It's going to be a long day."

She took her wand, and said "_Nox._" Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the scarce level of moonlight. She knew there were a few rocks around to work with...

There was a nicely sized one by the mouth of the cave. Pursing her lips in concentration, she pointed her wand at it. She knew there was a spell to turn a rock into a pillow...

"_Spongify_" she tried, with no result. "_Adoucin. Radoucin?_"

In the end, she managed to get the rock bit softer and smelling vaguely of pineapples. Figuring that was as good as it was going to get, Rose spread her cloak over her body and use the rock as a pillow.

She was shaken awake by Scorpius hours later. "There's an owl here," he said, obviously shaken. "I think it's for you."

Rose pushed herself up, eyes still bleary. "Let me see," she mumbled.

There was a familiar purple eyed tawny owl sitting in the mouth of the cave. Resting next to it was a wicker basket covered with a swatch of gingham fabric.

She took the notes from Dido's mouth and opened it.

_Rose and Scorpius,_

_A little bird told us you two might be hungry. We would be there too, but that same little bird told us our place was down below. He also said not to meddle, but that part was a joke. We think._

_Ever omniscient,_

_Gemma and Genna_

"It's from... a friend," said Rose. Scorpius still regarded the basket with trepidation. "Don't worry. I... trust them, I suppose. Come on, we should feed Dido before sending her out."

The basket was filled with danishes and pastries that looked like Hogwarts fare. Rose looked outside; the sun was high overhead. They must have missed breakfast, possibly even lunch

"I hope Dmitri's not upset that I didn't get to wish him luck," said Rose.

"I think he'll appreciate this a bit more," Scorpius assured her.

They fed Dido and sent her on her way before sitting down to eat. The food was delicious - definitely some of Hogwarts' finest. Rose and Scorpius stuffed themselves and still had food to spare.

"They're called the Gemini," explained Rose, picking at a cheese danish. She assumed that she was allowed to speak about them to Scorpius - and if not, well, the twins would just have to deal with it.

Scorpius took a bite of a sweet roll. "Don't think I've ever heard of them," he said. "What do they write for?"

"It's called Scribblings," said Rose, "and I'm not surprised you haven't heard of it. They said it's pretty underground."

"As in illegal?"

Rose laughed. "No, but that's what I said at first too. I think it's more of an acquired taste. I'll show you my copy, one day. They -"

She froze, then turned slowly towards the mouth of the cave. There had been a dull noise - but there it was again, louder this time. It sounded like rock against rock like -

Like someone was climbing up to the cave

Rose pulled her wand from her pocket and pointed it at the opening. Scorpius did the same. His lips began to move in a murmured incantation. Slowly, a triangle of dark purple light gathered at the tip of his wand.

The sound of scattering pebbles grew until a shadow fell into the opening of the cave. Rose recognized it in time to yell, "No!" and hit Scorpius' arm. His spell went off course, hitting the wall of the cave. A few chunks of rock tumbled down to rest Albus' feet.

"Nice welcome," said Albus, raising a brow. "I thought we agreed that we would only shoot spells at _James_ when he entered the room."

"What are you doing here?" asked Rose, shocked.

Albus leveled a serious look at her. "Why didn't you come and find me?" He said, and Rose could see what he was hurt.

"I thought -"

"- that I would try to stop you? That I would say you are overreacting, that we should wait? Let the adults handle it?"

"Well, yes," Rose said, "seeing how that's how you reacted in the past."

Albus sighed. "Rose, I know we don't see eye to eye on some things. But if you're walking into something like this, I'm going to be standing by your side, no matter what. You're not alone in this."

"Thanks," said Rose softly. "That's... that's good to know."

Scorpius raised a brow, and Albus laughed. "You got the easy end of it," complained Scorpius. "She wasn't so keen to forgive a few hours ago, when I had to basically beg for mercy."

"Oh, you're such a liar!" laughed Rose. "I've forgave you quick enough."

"As soon as he mentioned Alastair, I reckon," said Albus. "Speaking of which, I'm still not quite sure what's going on here. Care to fill me in?"

"First of all," said Rose, "how did you find us here? I didn't even know -"

"Lorcan gave me this drawing," said Albus, checking his pockets. Rose didn't even have to look at it know that it was the same as the one Lorcan had given she and Scorpius. "I realized that the two of you were gone, and figured that you had to be here."

Rose and Scorpius filled Albus in on what he had missed. He shook his head, astounded.

"A rock slide?" he said. "That's...Rose, I guess you're right about him. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you before."

"Oh, fine," said Rose. "You're here now, and that's what matters."

They wasted the afternoon away, staying mainly to the back wall of the cave. Rose peeked over the ledge once and saw people already gathering at the bottom of the cliff. She pulled back quickly, hoping none of the onlookers had spotted her.

"They're getting ready for the task," she told Scorpius. "It's doesn't look like the school is here yet. By the height of the sun, we have an hour, maybe a bit more."

"You judge time by the sun?" said Scorpius.

"I just hope Dmitri will listen to us," said Albus. "I mean, he could just think we're part of the task, put here to deter him."

Rose had not thought of that. "We'll find a way to convince him," she said. "And if not, well, there's three of us and one of him. I know some restraint spells."

Scorpius shook his head. "And yet somehow, I'm not surprised."

The three continued to wait. Rose picked at one of the remaining sweet buns lazily, thinking about what Scorpius had mentioned and wishing she had practiced her shield charms more.

They all jumped upon hearing Kingsley Shacklebolt's amplified voice. "Good evening," said the Minister, his low voice low and smooth. When Rose heard it, she couldn't help but think back on faint memories of her childhood. Kingsley had always sung one song - the melody faded into the background of the memory, and the foreign words were lost in her mind.

"It is my honor to present to you all the third and final task of this Triwizard Tournament," Kingsley continued. "The judges include Professor McGonagall, headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and her former student, Harry Potter."

Loud cheers rose from the crowd. Rose wondered if Teddy was taking Harry's place again, then decided that at this point, it hardly mattered.

Kingsley waited for the cheers died down, then continued. "Professor Ivanoff and Petya Kiernoff here today to represent Durmstrang Academy."

The crowd seemed unsure as to how to react to Durmstrang's headmaster and former champion. Slowly, quiet applause began, then grew until it reached a deafening height. Kingsley had to speak over it.

"And finally," he called, "Madame Maxime of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, here with former Beauxbatons champion Louis Montageux."

Rose felt of her stomach fall as Kingsley began to announce the champions. When he said Dmitri's name, which received a monumental round of applause, she felt about ready to cry.

"They're just hoping he won't die," she said to Scorpius miserably.

"Some," he allowed. "Others probably hope he will."

"Don't _say_ that!" she hissed.

Scorpius raised his hands defensively. "I'm just being realistic here. Don't mind me."

"The champions must search this mountain in search of the Cup," explained Kingsley, his magnified voice booming. "They have each received maps - four, to be precise. Only one leads to the Triwizard Cup, one thousand galleons, and eternal glory."

Rose clenched her teeth as the loud firing of a gun was heard. The crowd began to roar and cheer for their favorites. Some shouted advice, others just names. A disproportionate amount seemed to be rooting for Dmitri.

"I think you're wrong," Rose told Scorpius quietly. "I think they all want to see Dmitri walk away from this, winner or no. Madame Maxime was crying when they had to tell to Dmitri that he had to compete. No one wants to see a second-year die."

Scorpius nodded mutely. Rose, Albus, and Scorpius all pressed themselves against the back wall in hopes of not being seen by anyone below.

The crowd was so loud that Rose did not hear the telltale signs of someone's approach. She was so busy listening for the scattering of pebbles that hen Dmitri appeared in the mouth of the cave, she was taken by surprise.

"Dmitri!" She cried as the boy staggered a step backwards, nearly toppling out of the cave. "Dmitri get away from the opening -"

But Dmitri was pointing his wand at them. "_Otići zlih duhova,_" he said quickly. "_Zli duhovi otići_!"

"No!" Cried Rose. "Dmitri, it's us! Wait!"

"We taught you how to play wizards chess," said Albus hurriedly. "Lysander taught it to you, then Rafael. James' knight got mad and tried to throw your pawns into the fire."

Rose realized what Albus was trying to do. "I copied over the formats for you," she added, seeing Dmitri pause. "You were interviewed by the Gemini - you gave some of the red yarn to Gemma, and she made it into a bracelet. We met the night before Halloween. You told me about the Granians."

"You said hi to me once on your way out of the great Hall," said Scorpius. "You called me the boy in green, and Rose tugged you away before I could say anything."

Rose had forgotten about that day. "I told you that you were going to be late for Herbology," she recalled, and "and you reminded me that it was Saturday."

Dmitri took a tentative step forward. "Vhy you here?" he asked suspiciously. "Not down class?"

Rose tried to explain things quickly. "You know how Lorcan's a Seer?" she said. "Well, sort of. He drew us here, and Scorpius told me about Alastair, and we came early this morning -"

"You're confusing him," said Albus. "Dmitri, will you sit so we can explain? It will be safer."

Dmitri hesitated.

"Ah, where's the danger in it?" asked Scorpius. "The worst that can happen is you don't win the tournament. Were you planning on winning?"

"Nice words of encouragement," said Rose, but they seemed to work. Dmitri crossed the cave slowly and sat with the others.

Rose left the explanations to Albus. She held her wand tightly, watching the mouth of the cave intently. What if Alastair still triggered the rockslide if Dmitri wasn't outside?

"So Rose was right?" Said Dmitry slowly. "Alastair kill my brother? He... he... every thing?"

"Everything," said Albus. "But we won't let him get to you."

"I stay here," said Dmitry with a sudden determination. "If I am here, he cannot rock's fall from sky." They had attempted to explain the rockslide, but that was as close as they could get.

"Just wait it out until the task ends," agreed Albus. "Someone will fly up and get you from here. Alistair won't have a chance to hurt you."

The crowd had settled down to wait the task out, so Rose was able to hear the signs of someone approaching. "We have company," she murmured, standing so her wand was still pointed at the cave opening.

The others stood as the sounds drew nearer. A form stood in the mouth of the cave, lit from behind by the sun. His face was in shadow until he stepped forward.

It was Rafael Romolov.


	18. The Cave

Rose froze, her wand nearly slipping through her fingers. She blinked, trying to make the apparition disappear, but it would not. Rafael remained where he was.

Dmitri made a strangled sound before rushing forward. Scorpius reacted faster than Rose could, grabbing the back of Dmitri's robes. Albus lunged forward and caught one of Dmitri's flailing arms, pulling him back.

"Stop!" cried Dmitri. "No! Me - Rafael -"

"Dmitri!" said Rose, finally looking away from Rafael. "Dmitri, stop it! Dmitri!"

"Lets me go!" He continued to thrash as Albus and Scorpius held him back. "Rafael!"

Rafael spoke for the first time. "Dmitri," he said, and something wrenched in Rose's chest. It was Rafael's low, rough voice. "My little _vrana_. ""

Dmitri let out another cry and lunged towards Rafael. He twisted his body to kick at Albus and Scorpius, who were struggling to hold the older boy back.

"Do not fight friends, Dmitri," said Rafael calmly. "They vant to help. Relax. Do not fight."

Albus and Scorpius did not release Dmitri's arms when he ceased struggling. Rose considered setting a Full-Body Bind on him, but she didn't want to look away from Rafael again.

"You're dead," she told him, partially to remind herself of that fact. "Rafael is dead."

"I am here," replied Rafael. "They vere wrong, that task. I do not die - I am hurt, but I do not die."

Rose's chest twisted once more. "Where have you been?" she asked, ignoring the angry heat in her chest. "If you didn't die, then where did you go?"

"I hide," he responded. "It vas not safe here, so I hide."

That alone was enough proof for Rose. "Rafael would never go into hiding without Dmitri," she said, still ignoring the heat in her chest. "Rafael would do anything to protect his brother. Anything."

"I vas protecting him," contested Rafael, but Rose was not paying attention. She had realized that the heat located in her breastbone was not anger, or distress.

It was her locket.

Rose turned to Dmitri. "Dmitri," she said softly, "this isn't your brother."

Tears were streaming down Dmitri's face. "My brother has come for me," he moaned. "He say he alvays protect me. He come for me..."

Rose turned back to examine Rafael. Two parts of her mind were at war. One said that Rafael was dead- he had come out of the challenge crushed and mangled. The other side was connected to her eyes, the eyes that saw Rafael standing before her. He wore the same damn straight roads, had the same dark hair, strong jaw, the steely eyes...

"Look at me, Raven," said Rafael.. "It is me. I came for you."

Rose knew what was going to happen the moment it began. The locket, which had only grown hotter by the minute, lifted from her chest and began to lead her forward. Ignoring the wand held casually at Rafael's hand, she began to approach him.

Something flickered behind his eyes. "Rose," he said, "it is only me. I have come for Dmitri. I take care of him."

"Like you took care of his brother?" she said quietly. Another flash in Rafael's eyes, this one distinctly ugly. "Alistair."

Before he could move, Rose threw out a hand and grabbed his arm. Immediately, the scene before her changed.

Alistair Trimble sneered down at her. "Do you think your something remarkable?" He snapped - but it was odd, because his mouth did not move as he spoke. "You, a little girl, will stop me?"

"I already have," she said fiercely. "Do you see Dmitri under a pile of rubble? He's here. He's safe. He's alive, and you're not going to change that."

Alistair laughed, but still, his mouth did not open. "My opinion of you remains the same," he said. His voice was suddenly back to his normal smooth tone. "You have... great potential. I like your spark. Your choice of friends, however, is lacking."

"I count Scorpius among my friends," she retorted, using his own words against him. "You lost him. He came to me."

"As I knew he would," replied Alistair, clearly amused. "Did you really think I would kill Dmitri?"

"You were going to crush him," she said, suddenly uncertain. "Scorpius told me. A rockslide."

"Young Scorpius has done well. Now you are all where I wish you to be."

"It won't work," Rose snapped. "You won't turn me against him." She ignored the spark of doubt that Alistair had planted, concentrating on Lorcan's drawings. He would not have sent them into their death.

Alistair laughed once more, and Rose understood why Scorpius labeled it as a chilling sound.

"Do not be a silly girl," he said pleasantly. "I have never taken you for one. How close have I come to being exposed this year?"

"Obviously not close enough, since you're standing here," she snapped.

Alistair ignored Rose's comments. "Why would I kill the boy now? He is not his brother. He is yet young. He could yet make different decisions."

"What's decisions?" asked Rose sharply.

"You are an intelligent young witch," said Alistair. "You will figure it out, of that I am doubtless. And when you do... I am eagerly waiting your decision."

"If it involves you, then I've already made it," Rose told him. "I will find the evidence I need, and they will bring you up in front of the Wizengamot, and they will lock you away forever."

Alistair chuckled good-naturedly. "You'll come around," he assured her, "just wait and see."

Rose drew her arm back, breaking the connection between she and Alistair. His face shifted once more into Rafael's.

"See?" he said, his voice once more Rafael's. "I am only friend."

"He doesn't want to kill Dmitri now," Rose told the others without turning. "But he's got something else brewing, something nasty."

"We didn't hear anything," said Scorpius, an odd tone to his voice. "You two just... stood there."

"I'll explain later, then," said Rose. "Dmitri? Dmitri, can you hear me?"

Dmitri let out a low moan. Rose made sure Scorpius and Albus were watching Alistair, then turned and knelt by Dmitri's side.

"Dmitri, it's Rose," she said softly. "I know this is hard, but I need you to listen to me. That man there is not your brother."

She took a choked sob as a sign that she was getting through to him. "Rafael is not here," she continued, but the words got stuck in her throat partway through. "I need you look at him and realize that whom you're seeing is not your brother."

Slowly, Dmitri lifted his head. His eyes were glossed over with tears, but his jaw was stubbornly set. He stared at Alistair silently, the tears streaking down his face unnoticed.

"My little raven," said Alsitair softly. Dmitri's lips quivered, but his gaze did not falter. "How I have missed you."

Suddenly, Dmitri sprang to his feet. Before anyone could move to stop him, he had drawn his wand and pointed it at Alistair. "_Richtenegro_!" he cried.

Strands of red light shot out of Dmitri's want. Alastair blocked them before they could touch him, each strand of light disappearing with a whip-like crack as it made contact with Alistair's invisible shield.

"You are not my brother," panted Demetri angrily, wand still pointed at Alistair. "You look as him, but you are other. Leave us."

Alistair sighed heavily. "For you once so young, you are so cynical," he said, dropping the accent. "Ah, but you will come around."

"You are a murderer," said Dmitri. "You are of soil and mud and dirt and blood."

"Born in blood and forged in fire," said Alistair in an almost reminiscent way. "But you as well, little raven. You as well."

Dmitri took a breath for a spell. But before he could cast it, the air around them exploded. Rose whipped her head around, searching anxiously for the source of the noise, when she realized... it was a bell. Bells, and cheers of thousands of people. Shouts of joy and celebration. Trumpets and flutes and horns and drums.

While they were busy arguing, Mariette Croisseux had found the Cup.

"Brilliant," said Alistair, looking harried. "This serves as proof that even the best laid plans go awry. I'm afraid our time together must end prematurely."

"Just get out," hissed Rose. She was fed up with his mind games.

"But of course," conceded Alistair with a mocking bow. "Anything for you, Rose." He looked back to Dmitri, who was glowering at him. "We shall meet again, _vrana_. That is not a threat, but a promise. And when we do, you shall ascend to greatness."

Dmitri spat on the ground before him. "May the blood of Romolov curse you until your death," he said angrily.

This seems to amuse Alistair. He tilted his head back and laughed, the sound wrong as it came out of Rafael's body. He did not stop laughing until he turned and strode from the cave.

Rose lay a hand on Dmitri's shoulder as he began to cry in earnest. "It's okay," she said soothingly, though she knew it that it was a lie. His brother was still dead. Nothing would ever be right again.

Albus sat on the ground of the cave, looking thoroughly exhausted. He had a bruise forming on his cheekbone from where Dmitri's elbow had made contact with his face.

After assessing the situation for a moment, Scorpius picked up the wicker basket of food and peaked inside.

"There's still some pastries left," he offered, his words breaking through Dmitri's sobs. "I think Albus smushed a few rolls, but besides that, it looks pretty edible."

"We need to get Dmitri out of here," said Rose as Albus caught a pastry Scorpius tossed him. "The task is over. If he doesn't go down soon, they'll send people up to find him."

Dmitri wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his robe. "I vill go," he said, sniffling. "I climb down."

"Alastair said he didn't actually plan the rock side," said Rose wearily. "I suppose it would be safe."

"I vant to... to climb," said Dmitri firmly when Albus began to protest. "It vill be good. And he vill not... they vill not know you are here."

Rose had to admit, he had a good point. "We'll climb down when it's dark," she said. "No one will notice us rejoining the group. They'll be too busy celebrating."

Dmitri pulled himself together. "Thank you," he said to the three others. "You have come... you vant to protect me. I am in debt forever."

Scorpius shrugged it off. "All in a day's work," he said. "Besides, who doesn't like an adventure?"

Albus rolled his eyes. "Don't listen to him," he told me to. "We'll be down soon. Don't let the reporters catch you."

Dmitri offered a half smile. "They will not. I am more fast."

Rose sank down against the back wall as Dmitri left the cave. Her head was beginning to ache. Her fingers were sore from where she had held onto Alistair's arm. But overall, she was happy.

After a relaxed moment of silence, Albus asked, "What happened with you and - Alistair?" 

Rose took a deep breath. "It was the locket again," she said, "just like in the storm. It pulled me to him. When I touched him, I saw that it was Alistair."

"Wait, what?" said Scorpius. "And we didn't see anything."

Rose pulled the locket out from under her robe. "It's the Prewett locket," she explained, showing it to Scorpius. "My grandmum found it while cleaning out an old jewelry box. She gave it to me, and I've worn it ever since.

"I was the one who pulled Rafael storm that destroyed the Durmstrang ship," she reminded him. "Well, the locket forced me to. It started getting hot, that pulled me out onto the field to where Rafael was."

"And it did the same thing now?" said Scorpius.

"Yes," said Rose, "and then Alastair was talking, but his mouth wasn't moving. But I could hear him - and when he laughed, I thought I could die."

Albus glanced at the mouth of the cave. "Well, we have time," he said. "The sun's not even setting yet. Tell us what he said."

So that's what Rose did. The boys listened intently as she recounted her conversation, go through each part until she was sure she had gotten it right.

"But what does he mean, Dmitri will make different decisions?" said Albus, his brows knit.

Scorpius looked equally thoughtful. "He wants Dmitri to take his brother's place in something," he said, "but in what?"

"I don't know," said Rose tiredly. "I think we'll all function better with a bit of rest, though. C'mon, let's head down."

They reached the mouth of the cave, then froze.

"How long were we up here?" asked Rose slowly. Because the sky was now dark, and so was the street below. All was quiet.

The students had returned to the castle.

"No need to panic," urged Albus as they clambered down the face of the mountain. "We'll just hurry ahead and catch up with them, see? No one will know the difference."

But Rose knew that they were far too late. They reached the end of the lane and saw that some of the shops were already closed. Others had hung lanterns in their windows to shed light for their customers.

Albus began to panic. "What are we going to do?" he asked urgently.

"First," said Scorpius, "we walk. No need to draw attention. Come on."

As they walked, Rose wracked her mind for ways out of Hogsmeade. She knew that there was a portrait in the Hog's Head that led to the third floor of the castle, but that was for emergencies only. Besides that, there were other passages, but they didn't have -

"The Marauder's Map," she snapped with a grin.

Albus sighed. "That would help if we actually _had_ the map," he reminded her.

"Map?" said Scorpius, confused. "What map? I'd like a map about now..."

Rose turned to Albus. "The Marauder's Map had the passageways out of Hogsmeade to Hogwarts, right?"

"Yes, but -"

"So if we knew it well enough, we could chance using the secret passages without it, correct?"

"But we _don't _have it," said Albus, clearly frustrated. "Dad still - "

"And who gave it to your dad?"

Albus thought for a minute, then a wide grin spread across his face. "Uncle George," he said. "Do you think he'd still remember?"

"Of course," she said, sure of it. George Weasley had an excellent memory in all matters, but birthdays. "And he would certainly be willing to help a niece and nephew in a moment of mischief."

Glad to have a plan, Rose led the boys towards the joke shop. She heard Scorpius mutter behind her, "I'd still prefer a map." She ignored it and focused on locating the joke shop.

Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes was fairly impossible to miss. It had an imposing façade painted in bright purples and reds that seem to pop even in the dark. The shop had expanded over the years; it now branched out to both sides, having bought out the former businesses.

Large signs filled front windows of the shop, advertising products such as colour-changing eyebrows and other such things. A single lantern hung over the main doorway, filled with red fire.

"Sorry, we are not open," the lantern said as Rose approached the door.

"I came to see my Uncle George," said Rose clearly, making sure the lantern understood her words. It could be a bit hard of hearing at times, and she didn't wish to deal with finicky magical devices at the moment.

The lantern chuckled. "Oh me oh my," it said darkly. "But of course. He'll be right down."

Scorpius shifted nervously, his lips drawn together tightly.

"Stop that," ordered Rose. "No need to act like a convict."

"I think my luck at meeting your family is up," he said, still shifting. "You and Albus were it. I'm fried."

Hearing footsteps inside, Rose ignored Scorpius' worrying. The bright door opened is slightly to reveal a man with bright orange hair and laugh lines.

"Uncle George," said Rose, relieved. "It's so good to see you. We are in kind of a pinch, you see, and -"

She stopped midsentence. The door had swung open further to reveal the rest of the room. Arranged a small half circle were Uncle Harry, Aunt Ginny, and Rose's parents. A bit off to the side were Draco Malfoy and woman who could only be Scorpius' mother.

"I would say you're in more than a pinch," said George with a chuckle. "Why don't you all come in? I've got some people who are dying to see you."


	19. Family Reunion

Rose had once read that thestrals' hearts beat over one thousand times a minute. Stepping into the shop, she was convinced that her heart rate was somewhere near a thestral's.

Hermione's mouth was set in a tight line, but her eyes were watery. Ron had his arm around her, and he too looked unusually solemn.

Ginny broke the silence first. "We came down to task to surprise you," she said quietly, subdued. "Albus, your brother claims to have no notion as to where you were. Not that you were off with Rose - just that you were gone."

Scorpius and Albus were both studying the ground carefully. Rose chanced a glance at her mum. Hermione was now looking at her daughter quizzically, one brow raised.

"We were with Ginny and Harry," said Hermione, "and that's when we realized - we couldn't find you either, Rose. So, naturally, we turned to Harry's -er - resources."

Harry glanced down at a ragged bit of parchment that lay on the counter before him. Rose realised it must be the Marauder's Map. Her stomach sank as she figured out where this story was headed.

"Harry consulted the map," continued Hermione, "and there you were, all nice and cozy with young Scorpius here. Up in the middle of the mountain."

Rose took a small step back, away from her parents and towards Scorpius. Albus, in the back of the group, saw what she was doing and took a step forward.

"I'm sorry we disappeared, Mum," said Rose brazenly, "but Albus and I don't want to hear what you have to say about Scorpius. I know you all didn't get on well with his lot, but he's - he's different."

"My dad _is_ standing right there, you know," murmured Scorpius. It sounded as if he was trying to repress laughter. "Oh, and thanks."

"I. - I'm with Rose," said Albus, his face determined. "We've had fun this year - I mean, even when we were dueling, it was -"

"You were _dueling_?"

Rose exchanged apprehensive glance with Scorpius. _He_ had never seen Ginny Weasley in a fury. Rose had.

Albus shook his head furiously. "No, Mum!" he insisted. "We were in Defense class, see, and Evariste does practical lessons, so me and Rose and Scorp were paired up, see, and this is when Scorp and I, we didn't like each other yet -"

"Ah, those were the days," muttered Ron sarcastically.

"- and we started really going at it, and it was a blast, wasn't it, Scorp?" Albus looked expectantly at Scorpius, who could do nothing but sigh.

"Yes," conceded Scorpius, "that day was... fun." He looked to his father, who was pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I think I would like to speak with Rose," said Hermione, "and alone."

"But-"

"No, Ron, you come too."

Rose offered Albus and Scorpius a small smile before following her parents. She passed Uncle George, who had taken up a perch on one of the gleaming counters.

"Yes," she whispered in response to his unasked question, "it was pretty brilliant, watching them fight."

George groaned. "I miss everything," he complained. "Good luck. Ron wasn't in the best of moods when he got here."

Rose nodded, then hurried to catch up with her parents. They had settled into one of the storage rooms. Hermione sat on precarious stack of boxes, while Ron paced in the confined space.

"I don't exactly know what to say," said Hermione as Rose shut the door. "Rose, would you like to tell us where you were?"

Rose wanted desperately to tell her mother the truth. She needed to speak about Alistair, Dmitri, the locket, the Gemini - all of it. But as much as she wanted to divulge everything to her parents... she couldn't.

"We... we wanted to show Scorpius Sirius' cave," said Rose. "We thought he would find it interesting."

Still pacing, Ron snorted. Hermione shot him a warning glare, then said, "Go on."

"We thought it would just be a quick trip," Rose continued, ignoring the increased heart rate and that always came when she told a lie. "We snuck out this morning when all of the reporters were coming and going. We meant to go and make it back to meet Dmitri before the task, but then people were everywhere and we couldn't get down."

"And no one saw you during the task?" questioned Hermione curiously. "The caves aren't too big."

Rose chanced a slightly more elaborate lie. "Dmitri came in at one point," she said, doing her best to look sheepish. "I convinced him we were part of the task. Scorpius threw a few spells his way, and he left."

Hermione nodded slowly. "We weren't in view of Sirius' cave," she said thoughtfully. "We were standing back where the Beauxbatons girl was left. She seems to have her maps all figured out."

"_Scorpius Malfoy?_"

Rose had been waiting for the outburst to come. She knew her dad would try to bottle all of his opinions up so Rose could tell her story. Now all Rose could do was wait it out.

"I mean, I understand going up there with Al," Ron said, his words nearly blurring together as he spat them out. "Al is family. I'd understand if you had taken the twins, or Dominique or Molly or - hell, I'd have understood if you took bloody _Neville_ with you. But Malfoy's son?"

"Ron, I - "

"And it's not like you're _friends_ or anything. You talk about your friends in your letters. Al and James and Dmitri and his brother, and Lorcan and Lysander and Tia Marsh and -"

"Ron!"

"Don't 'Ron' me Hermione, I'm on a roll!"

"You remember all of that for my letters?" said Rose softly.

Ron stopped mid-rant and turned to his daughter. "Of course I did," he said, looking confused. "I try to keep track of what you're doing when we're not there to keep an eye on you."

Rose had to use the moment to her advantage. "But if you're not here, you just have to trust me," she said quietly. "Listen, Dad. Albus and I are friends with Scorpius. I know you may not like it, but it's true."

"But the letters," groaned Ron, plopping down on a large box. "He wasn't in the _letters_."

"I told you not to count on the letters for everything," Hermione reminded her husband with a sad smile. "Remember Harry's letters to Sirius? Or better yet, yours to your mum? Things have a way of... slipping through the cracks."

"I figured this would be a better conversation to have in person," added Rose. "I didn't much fancy a Howler showing up over breakfast."

Ron shook his head, mumbling something incoherent. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"He'll get over it," she told Rose. "As for me, well... you say he's your friend?"

"Albus', too," added Rose. "Really, he's not at all like you always told us he'd be."

Hermione sighed. "I'm beginning to think that we were wrong," she said. "We always warned Al that people would judge him by his father, but here we are, doing the same to Scorpius."

Ron scowled but did not object. Hermione slid off the stacked boxes and straightened her mossy green robe.

"We need to get the three of you back to the castle before you are missed," she said. "C'mon, Ron. I'm sure you and Harry can sulk together."

When they reentered the room, however, the scene was not how Rose had expected it. Aunt Ginny was speaking with Scorpius's mom, looking completely relaxed about it. Albus and Scorpius both stood by their fathers, who were regarding each other warily.

Rose left her mom's side and crossed the room to stand between her cousin and her friend. She smiled at them both.

Hermione went to stand beside Aunt Ginny. "Hello," she said, "we really haven't met, have we? I'm Hermione Weasley."

"Astoria Malfoy," said Scorpius's mother, shaking Hermione's hand. Her soft voice matched her frail features, made even more delicate by her long, pale hair. Her vibrant blue eyes were alert, but not cautious.

"I was just telling Astoria that I think we've begun on the wrong foot," Aunt Ginny told Hermione. "I know that the Three Broomsticks is still open, and I would love to sit and have a drink."

"It's bound to be a bit crowded from the tournament," said Hermione. "What about that little place, the one run by Carmina? She's still open."

Astoria glanced at her husband, who closed his eyes, sighing deeply. "That would be nice," said Astoria. "Now Scorpius, how do you intend on getting back to the castle?"

"Rose had the plan," said Scorpius instantly. "Al and I were just sort of following her lead."

Rose made a face at him. "Oh, blame it all on me, why don't you," she muttered. "We were kind of hoping that Uncle George would help us with some of the passageways leading back to school."

"But of course!" exclaimed George, stretching his fingers. "My first suggestion would be -"

Aunt Ginny shot her brother a look that clamped his mouth shut. "I don't think that going back through a passageway would be the best choice," she said. "You just know Filch will be in a crabby mood."

"I could take them back," offered Hermione. "I'll say that that we kept them back for a quick visit - shoot, James would be with us..."

"We'll take them back."

Everyone spun to face the entryway. Harry had his wand out by the time Rose had recognized the girls standing there.

"No!" she cried. "No it's - they're friends."

The Gemini wore matching catlike grins. "Good evening," one said. Rose spotted the red yarn bracelet - it was Gemma. "Let me see... we have Ginevra and Harry Potter, Hermione and Ronald Weasley, and Astoria and Draco Malfoy, correct?"

"What's an interesting group," remarked Genna.

"Quite."

"Almost-"

"-begging to be seen, I would say."

"As Would I., dear sister."

"Mum, Dad," said Rose quickly, "I want you to meet Gemma and Genna. They... er... pretty much know who you are, I suppose."

"Delighted -"

"- a pleasure -"

"an honor -"

"We're thrilled," said the Gemini as one.

Ron looked between the two small girls, obviously confused. "Are you two twins or something?" he asked.

"State the obvious, Ron," said Hermione.

"We _are_ twins," said Gemma, "now that you mention it. We are also reporters for the tournament. We can take Rose, Albus, and Scorpius back to the castle with us."

"We held them back for an interview," continued Genna," seeing how close they are too young Dmitri."

Rose thought that it was a perfect plan. "Mum? Dad?"

"Well, we can't very well walk them back to the castle ourselves," Aunt Ginny pointed out. Uncle Harry was looking a bit apprehensive. "Besides, it's getting late. I'm sure there's a feast they should be getting to."

"It's fine with me," said Hermione. Ron was still looking at the Gemini with confusion. "You do need to be getting back, dear."

"Al, stick with Rose," Ginny ordered. "And don't think that we won't be discussing this when you get home."

"Yes, Mum," said Albus glumly.

Scorpius looked at Astoria expectantly.

She sighed. "Go along to, I suppose," she said. "Draco, dear, do you agree?"

Draco paused, his thin lips tight. After a moment, he said, "Be good, Scorpius. Keep out of trouble."

Scorpius nodded eagerly before hugging his mother. Rose did the same, grabbing Ron's hand to pull him down to her level.

"We're going to have a talk next week, young lady," said Ron gruffly as he hugged his daughter tightly. "This Malfoy situation is far from over."

Rolling her eyes, Rose ignored the comment. "Love you," she said to her parents before going to stand with the Gemini.

"Thanks," she whispered.

"It was nothing," one of them murmured. It was impossible to tell which one it was; neither their mouths appeared to move.

They finished bidding their parents goodbye before following the Gemini out to the street. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Draco's eyes were on her retreating figure.

"Have a good night, now," said the lantern as they exited. "Stay out of trouble... if you can."

Gemma took a deep breath of the cool night air as Genna smiled serenely. "We like the night," said Genna. "It's very... calm."

"How do you know where to find us?" asked Scorpius. "At the gates, in the cave, in the shop - "

"We have our ways."

"Indeed."

"Fairly omniscient at times, you might say."

"Oftentimes, we do not say."

Rose smiled. She was learning to appreciate the Gemini's quirkiness. "Thanks for the food," she said. "And, you know, everything else."

"Not a problem," said Gemma. "Dido loved visiting you. I think she's considering taking up a perch and that cave of yours."

"Not that we'd object," said Genna, "if she didn't need to be at the school."

"Now, the Owlery's not bad -"

"- no, not by any means -"

"- but she prefers the open air."

The Gemini sustained delightful conversation as they walked to the castle. The large, domineering gates, made of twisting iron, were already closed. The castle could be seen beyond them, just up a stony path.

In the center of the gate, where a doctor or handle should be, was an ovular disc. On it was carved the Hogwarts crest - the snake, badger, eagle, and lion around an ornate letter H. Gemma pressed the palm of her hand against it.

"Geraldine and Geranium of Witch Weekly, returning students to from an interview."

For a moment, nothing happened. Then the ovular plate turned on its side, and the gate swung open.

"Come on in," said Gemma, as if she was inviting them into her home. "I'm sure someone will be there to meet you."

She was right. Argus Filch was lurking just outside the castle, holding a lantern with a suspicious smirk.

"And just where have you been?" he wheezed, bending down to shine the light in their faces. "The rest of the school returned over an hour ago."

Gemma took something out of her pocket. "We're from Witch Weekly, she said, flashing Filch a badge with her face and credentials on it.

Filch's sneer deepened. "Did I ask?"

"We were interviewing the students about the tournament," continued Gemma. "We didn't realize the time. So sorry for the inconvenience."

Scowling, Filch examined the press pass. "Eh, get in, then," he grumbled, jerking his head towards the open doors.

Rose waved goodbye to the Gemini, who remained outside. Once Filch turned, the Gemini made a face that made Albus burst out in laughter. Grumbling, Filch pushed them on toward the Great Hall.

An enormous feast was underway inside. The traditional Hogwarts colors had been replaced with the pale blues of Beauxbatons. Periwinkle laced with gold adorned the walls, tables, even the doors. As Rose sat, she noticed that the dishes and silverware were gold-toned as well.

Dmitri nearly collapsed with relief as Rose and Albus sat down. "I vas vorrying," he said. "You are being very late."

"Sorry," said Rose, "we got a bit... er... caught up."

Hearing Rose, James turned. "You!" He cried, looking between Rose and Albus. "You! And - and you! Where the hell _were _you two?"

Albus shushed his brother as Rose leaned forward. "Later," she promised. "Have we got a story for you!"


	20. The Next Generation

The school seemed to settle down with the end of the tournament. An official closing ceremony was held the morning following the final task. Rose could hardly keep her eyes open as Mariette Croisseux was awarded the Triwizard Cup - she had stayed up until the early morning hours with Albus, Dmitri, James, and Lysander.

They stuck around at lunch long enough to fill their pockets with food, then slipped out of the Great Hall. Looking as if they have every right to be there, they made their way to the third floor.

"Through here," Rose told James, leading him around overturned box of broken wands. The door to the trapdoor room was still unlocked; a relief, seeing how Rose didn't have enough room to draw her wand.

James peered dubiously down the trapdoor hole that Lysander uncovered. "And you expect me to... jump down there?"

"Lorcan put out cushions," said Lysander, sitting on the edge of the opening. "He says the drop's not bad at all. See you at the bottom!"

With a half-grin, Lysander slid through the hole and disappeared. A moment later, there was a far-off thud.

"Come on down!" he called, his voice small and distant. "The cushions work great."

One by one, the others slid down the trap door. James complained until the pile of pillows knocked him breathless.

"Not too bad," he decided, rising from the cushions. "Which way now?"

Wand lit, Rose led the way through the other rooms. She had to drag James along at some points; he wanted to stop and examine the key room, then the gigantic chessboard.

"Lorcan is waiting, you know," Lysander reminded him. James nodded absently, not moving forward until Rose tugged his sleeve.

Lorcan was lying on his stomach in the final chamber. He had his charcoal out and was sketching on the stone floor.

Rose circled behind him and knelt. Lorcan had drawn intricate letters on the ground: _The Generation Room_.

"It seemed fitting," he said, sitting up and brushing charcoal dust off his front. "Hello, James. How do you like it?"

"It's... interesting," said James, understating his opinion immensely. "So this is where it all began, eh?"

"What does it mean?" asked Rose, still looking at the ground.

Lorcan smiled slightly. "Don't you see?" he asked. "We are the next generation. We're right back where our parents were over twenty years ago. We won't do what they have done, but what we will do, it will be great."

Rose and Albus exchanged a look. She knew his feelings on following in his father's footsteps, but this declaration by Lorcan seemed to please him. Rose supposed that deep down inside him, there was someone looking to live up to his father's name.

Dmitri sat against a pillar, obviously exhausted. "It is so strange," he said. "I go to Durmstrang so soon. I... I leave."

"We'll write to you every day," promised Rose. "We'll send so many letters, you won't have time to reply to them all."

"Maybe you can come visit," suggested Albus. "You could stay with me and James."

"Or me," volunteered Rose. "You'd love my little brother."

Dmitri smiled sadly. "You are all kind," he said, "but I vill need to vork on the school... I have missed much during here."

"I'm so glad that the tournament is over," said Rose. "I mean, it was great at the beginning -"

"- then people die," interjected Dmitri. "I am knowing vhat you mean."

"You lose points for lack of sensitivity," James told Rose. "Dead brother. Foul. "

But Dmitri shook his head. "It is good to talk," he said. "Rafael vanted me to go on. Ve do not forget, but ve accept."

"It makes sense," remarked Lysander. "Many cultures see death as yet another rite of passage. People mourn that they were left behind, but celebrate that their loved one's journey has begun."

Rose liked that concept. She was glad that they had decided to spend the afternoon in the Generation Room; it gave her a chance to ask some questions that have been nagging at her

"Dmitri," she said, "if you don't mind me asking, what exactly happened with you in the cave? I mean, you seemed to have this epiphany about Alistair."

"That vas simple," said Dmitri. "Easy. I do as you say, I look. I look, and I see it is not Rafael."

"Sure looked like him to me," said Scorpius, "and I _knew_ it was Alistair."

Dmitri reached under the neck of his sweater. "But I know it is not," he said, pulling up a cord. On the end of it was a circular disk engraved with small letters.

"It vas belonging to Rafael," explained Dmitri. "I vas given... they give to me in hospital ving. I vear from then to now. In the cave, Alistair, I see he vear it too. I know he is copy, not real vun."

Rose leaned forward. "Could I see that?" she asked, a memory stirring. She had seen that necklace before...

"Of course," said Dmitri, lifting the cord from around his neck. Rose took the desk and held it close to her face, squinting in the insufficient light. The letters were almost too tiny to be legible, but she recognized the word after months of searching for it.

Trijuska.

"Dmitri, what does this word mean?" she asked urgently. "Trijuska. What does it mean?"

"The necklace says Trijuska?" said Albus incredulously.

"It vas old story Rafael told," said Dmitri, "you call fairy tale. The story out of bed. He say, vinged beasts bring this to me as sign of vurth. And vun day, they return and he vill go to sky castle."

"Who else has one?" asked Rose.

"No one," replied Dmitri slowly. "It vas a gift of father. Vhen I am too old for stories in bed, Rafael tells me, Papa give as gift before he die. Now I haff it. No vun else."

But Rose was certain that in the article featuring Alistair that they mentioned a necklace just like it. It was the reason she had spent so much time searching for the word.

"It's lovely," she said mutely, handing it back to Dmitri. She caught Lysander looking at her; after being her usual companion in the library, he remembered the term as well as she did.

Dmitri, oblivious, sighed and slumped back against the pillar.

"Maybe I am glad going to home," he said thoughtfully. "It is more easy. I do not... ve not vorry so much. It is more hard here."

Rose nodded understandingly. The truth was that she'd accepted difficulty as part of life long ago.

"I still can't believe I nearly failed my Potions final," grumbled James. He had been complaining about it nonstop since he found out his marks. "Slughorn's really starting to dislike me."

"He likes me just fine," said Albus smugly. "Rose and I did well enough, right Rose?"

Rose nodded. All of her finals have gone exceptionally well, even though she had panicked halfway through Potions, forgetting that mugworms had to be set out under the waning moon for two nights before being added to a Dizziness Draft.

"I just can't believe you're still been so horrible about Scorpius," Rose said to James. "I mean, even Dmitri says -"

"Dmitri saw him for two minutes," snapped James. "If you want to make a fool of yourself, be my guest. I'm not falling for it."

"You're being a real jerk about this," said Albus.

"And you're being blind. C'mon Al -"

"I think Rose and Albus are right," said Lorcan suddenly. "About Scorpius, I mean. He's not a bad bloke."

"So they've got you on their side now?" said James hotly. "Brilliant."

Lorcan was staring out into the air, his eyes oddly blank. "No, actually. But I know he's going to be important."

Lysander pulled some parchment out of Lorcan's bag and handed it to him. "Draw it," he said, his voice calm.

But Lorcan said, "No... I think I'll just let this one play out. When the seven of us are together... You'll see."

A shiver went through Rose, as if she had been passed through by a cold wind. She counted the group; with the addition of Scorpius, they would be seven.

James snorted. "Right. No offense, but I'm not making nice with pretty boy Malfoy just because you See him with us."

Lorcan shrugged and began to pack his charcoal sticks. "You'll see," he said simply. "Come on, Louis and his friends are planning an end of term party in the Great Hall. There already have most of the Beauxbatons colours down."

Rose separated from the others at the end of the third floor corridor. "I'll be down in a bit," she said. "I need to run up to the common room first."

She waited on the fourth floor for a few minutes until she was certain the others were gone. Then, she hurried down to the second floor and made her way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

Professor Evariste opened his office door after one knock. "Come in, please, come in," he said, ushering Rose inside. "I have already begun to make tea. Feel free to select a cup."

Rose chose a mug with shimmering silver swirls. "How did you know, I was coming?" she asked.

"Instinct," replied Evariste. "That, and... no, that's actually it. Instinct."

Rose sat at his desk on a short armchair that sunk down as she settled in. Evariste busied himself with the tea-making, summoning things from various cabinets.

"So, anything in particular you wish to speak to me about?" he asked as the teapot floated over and filled Rose's cup.

Suddenly shy, Rose shrugged. "Just... it's nothing much, I'm sure..."

"You know what I've learned from my travels?" said Evariste. "The most brilliant witches always follow their instincts, no matter how foolish they feel. And soon enough, they stop feeling foolish and start feeling brilliant."

Rose took a deep breath. "So I have this locket," she said, "and it's... enchanted, I guess."

Professor Evariste sat and began to wave off steam that rose up from his tea. "Do you think there is dark magic in it?"

Rose considered what the locket had done, then said, "No. It's never done anything... bad."

"Well then, let's see it."

Evariste studied the locket for a long moment after Rose had handed it over to him. He murmured spells and poked the locket with his wand, then frowned.

"Tell me," he said, "what does the P stand for? It's here, on the locket face."

"Prewett," said Rose. "It's a family heirloom, but I don't think my grandmum ever wore it. She found it in an old jewelry box."

Evariste nodded and pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Well, there's no sign of it being enchanted," he said, "though that does not in any way mean that it is not. Many enchantments are subtle. What has it done to make you think it has been magically enhanced?"

Rose hesitated. "Do you remember when the Durmstrang ship was destroyed?" she asked.

"Naturally. You were the one who pulled Rafael out of the Delaney storm, weren't you?" He grinned at Rose's obvious shock. "I did my own research, naturally. I was part of the investigation team."

It's made sense, seeing how he was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. "Did you find out who did it?" she asked, leaning forward hopefully.

Evariste hesitated. "My findings were inconclusive," he said slowly. "Without solid proof, there can be no accusation."

"But there is solid proof!" said Rose. "There is, I just know it."

Evariste set down his mug. "I'm going to be frank with you, Rose," he said. "I know you think that Alistair Trimble was responsible for Rafael's death. I know it must be frustrating, to have that strong of a conviction and to be powerless. But I must warn you against making Alistair an enemy. I had him as a student for years. I know his power."

"I won't be afraid of him," said Rose stubbornly. "He's only human."

Evariste smiled slightly. "Brave words for one so young. If I may be so bold, you're indeed your parents' child."

Rose was touched. "Thank you," she said earnestly. "Not many people say that."

"Nonsense," said Evariste dismissively. "You are an incredibly intelligent young witch, which I have heard runs in your family. Top of the class, even with disappearing during the third task."

"Are you keeping tabs on me or something?" asked Rose.

"Not nearly," replied Evariste. "I simply thought I would find you and tell you how you fared on your final exam. As I said, top of the class."

"You told us that during class," said Rose suspiciously. "And Scorpius and Albus did nearly as well as me."

"Nearly."

Rose shook her head and took a sip of tea. Evariste returned his attention to the locket.

"Now, what were you saying about this gem here?" he asked.

Rose went through the events occurred that had occurred on the day of the Durmstrang ship, starting at the beginning of the Defense class. When it came to the next seven months, though, she hesitated. How could she tell him that she had been in the caves during the third task?

She settled with a vague account of the facts. "It was a few days ago," she said. "It began the same way—the heat, then the pulling. I touched… my friend. He was in disguise."

"How so?" asked Evariste. "Physical or magical? Potion, spell, enchantment?"

"Er… magical," said Rose. "I'm not sure what, exactly. When I touched him, it was like the disguise was lifted. It was him, and he spoke to me, but his mouth wasn't moving. When I let go, the disguise was back. And the others hadn't seen a thing."

"The others?"

"Albus, Scorpius, and Dmitri," she listed automatically.

Evariste tilted his head. "So who was disguised?"

She knew he had seen through her story. "Lysander," she lied. "It was—we were playing a game."

"Mmm." He nodded, obviously unconvinced. Rose was more cautious as she finished her story, but she knew that it was futile. Evariste knew the truth.

Two cups of tea later, Evariste returned the locket to Rose. "Well, I don't think it's Dark," he said, "but it's definitely something. The good thing is, it seems to be protecting you."

"I just don't understand it," said Rose. "I don't like not understanding things."

Evariste smiled. "But alas, such is human nature. I suggest you keep the locket's powers to yourself. There are those who would use it less judiciously that you."

Rose nodded. "Thanks for your help," she said, getting to her feet. "At the tea."

"Any time," said Evariste. "Now, unless I am quite mistaken, your friends will be wondering where you are."

He was right. Rose managed to catch the group on their way to Hagrid's hut, where they spent the rest of the afternoon. Hagrid boiled soup in a large cauldron out by the cabbage patch while Rose helped James feed Witherwings. The others pulled out their sets of wizards chess and sat by carved out tree stumps

"So, yer goin' back ter yer school tomorrow, eh?" said Hagrid, stirring the soup slowly. "How d'ya suppose they'll manage dat?"

"Vithout ship?" Dmitri shrugged. "I do not know. I must put in place my bags tonight."

"We'll help you pack," offered Albus. "So, will our owls be able to find Durmstrang?"

"Why not?" said James, tossing Witherwings another ferret. "They find Hogwarts just fine."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Durmstrang is Unplottable," she reminded her cousin. "I don't think that should affect the owls, though. It's more of a human-deigned enchantment."

"I vill write to you as vell, said Dmitri. "Maybe that vill help owls."

They spent the night at the boys' dormitory sorting through Dmitri's things. He had not begun to weed through his brother's possessions; those stayed locked in their trunks, ready to be sent back to the school.

"Maybe they'll fly you back on thestrals," said James eagerly. They could tie you on."

"I think they'll end up going into Hogsmeade and Disapparating," said Lysander, folding a pair of socks. "It's the easiest solution at this point. And all of the other students are old enough to know how."

"I just still can't believe you're leaving," said Rose. "The year went by so fast…"

"Ve vill write," promised Dmitri. "And one day, I vill visit. I promise."

The next morning saw a huge departing feast for all the foreign students. Afterwards, the group went upstairs to finish packing Dmitri's bags. Rose sat on the edge of the bed, swinging her legs.

"Do not vorry," Dimitri told her for the third time.

"There's so much we never did," she sighed. "You have to tell us if you find out what those letters from Rafael said."

"I vill," he said. "Come now. Ve must meet others at lake."

Rose found herself tearing up as they gathered around the lake. The Beauxbatons students were already in two perfect lines. Mariette Croisseux stood at the front, holding the Triwizard Cup proudly. Professor Ivanoff was busy gathering the Durmstrang students.

"You'll write," Rose made Dmitri promised once more.

Professor Ivanoff wove his way through the throng of students towards Dmitri. "Come now, Dmitri," he said, pressed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "We must get ready to depart."

Dmitri nodded, biting his lip "I vill," he said. Professor Ivanoff patted his shoulder and walked away.

"Don't be sad," said Lysander as Dmitri sniffed. "This isn't the end of anything. In fact, it's only the beginning."

"We'll be seeing you again," Lorcan promised with a slightly dazed grin. "Have a little faith. You'll be back."

Everyone took turns hugging Dmitri, who put on a brave smile. "I vill miss you," he said, "but Lorcan is right. It is not end. It is a start."

Rose's tears overflowed as Dmitri walked away. Professor Ivanoff was summoning all of his students' luggage. Most of the trunks emerged from the doors of the school, but a few bags floated down from the Gryffindor Tower. They landed by Dmitri's side as he joined his classmates, who regarded him oddly

"They never really spent time with him, did they?" said Rose, a watching the older students.

"No, _he_ never spent any time with _them_," corrected Lysander. "He was with Rafael, or with us."

"I'll miss the little guy," James sighed.

"He's the same age as you," Rose reminded him, though James was old for his year.

"But still," said James.

Rose scanned the crowd group of Slytherins she knew would be present. And there was Alistair in the midst of them, head tilted back in laughter.

"We'll figure it out," said Albus, seeing where Rose's gaze was directed. "Don't stress about him now. Look!."

Hagrid was checking the Beauxbatons carriage as the students climbed into it. He tugged on the tethers that tied the Abraxan to the front of the carriage. The winged horses pawed the grounds, their eyes wide.

Mariette Croisseux waved to the Hogwarts students as she ascended the steps to the carriage. Blowing kisses to a group of Ravenclaw boys, she handed the Triwizard Cup to another student before stepped daintily into the carriage.

Madame Maxime smiled sadly at the Hogwarts students "Thank you for this lovely year," she said, her deep voice rising above the crowd's conversations. "I 'ave 'ad a wonderful time."

"Thank you for bringing your students," said Professor McGonagall warmly, standing on her toes to shake the other headmistress' large hand. "We look forward to the next time our schools are schools will unite."

Rose spotted Victoire Weasley standing with her siblings knew the carriage. She and Dominique curtsied and Louis bowed to Madame Maxime. The headmistress handed Victoire a sealed letter with the same sad smile.

Once Madame Maxime had ducked into the carriage, the golden doors swung shut. Hagrid stood a few feet away, his dark eyes watery. It must have been terribly difficult to say goodbye to his wife, though Rose supposed the separation would be short. She knew that Hagrid alternated summers between Hogwarts and France.

The Abraxan continued stomping their hooves against the ground. At an unseen signal, they began to press forward. Their wings began to beat slowly, lifting their bodies into the air. Slowly, the carriage lifted as well, the bottom sliding against the lake.

The Durmstrang students had finished gathering by the time the Beauxbatons carriage was out of sight. Students and luggage alike were gathered in a tight circle. As Rose watched, a thin, smoky veil dropped in front of the group.

The wind began to howl. It was a sudden, unexpected shift. Rose began to panic - the winds were circling around the Durmstrang delegation, just as they had around Rafael during the Delaney storm.

Murmurs spread through the crowd. Rose found Molly Weasley standing by Professor McGonagall with the Head Boy, but none of them looked too concerned. Rose squinted to make out Dmitri's expression - it was stoic and smooth under the swirling winds.

Suddenly, a loud crack resonated in the courtyard. Rose stumbled back a step, nearly falling into James, who had also tripped backwards. When she looked back to the Durmstrang students... they were gone.

"Nice exit," said James approvingly.

"Made quite a statement, didn't they?" said Lysander. "Certainly impressive. I wonder how they did it."

Rose grabbed her locket through her top. It was cool, reassuringly so. She knew that if something had gone wrong with the exit, the locket would've heated up.

All was well.


	21. Reunited

The end of the year feast seemed more of a somber occasion than Rose had expected. She was too busy missing Dmitri to really enjoy herself. She had written to him the day the Durmstrang students left, but she wasn't sure if her owl would be able to find the school. Her thoughts didn't inspire much hope.

Slytherin was awarded the house cup after they were given a bonus for Alistair's participation in the tournament. Words like 'noble' and 'brave' and 'daring' were thrown around - they made Rose sick. All she could think of was the moment she found out Rafael was dead.

"C'mon, Rose," said James, speaking through a mouthful of food. "Have some of the potatoes, at least. The kitchen's really outdone itself."

Sighing, Rose scooped some of the whipped potatoes onto her plate. "I'm actually glad the year's over," she admitted. "I can't wait to see my brother again."

"I'm sure Hugo will want to hear about everything," said Lysander. "_I_ want my library."

"I want my broomstick," said Albus achingly. "I can't wait to bring it to school!"

Before they knew it, their bags were packed and they were checking under their beds for spare socks or rolls of parchment. Rose closed her trunk and sat on it with a sigh, surveying her dormitory.

"I'll miss you all so much!" gushed Kara Welsh. "You have to write at least twice a week. Promise?"

"Promise!" cried Mary Deverill. "Keep in touch, both of you!"

Loren Nicosa joined the squealing, sobbing group hug. Tia Marsh looked at Rose with one brow raised.

"I'll miss this," she muttered as she passed Rose. "I really will..."

Before Rose knew it, all of the students were being shuffled off to the Hogwarts Express. Professor Evariste offered her a grin as she waved. Some teachers were climbing aboard the train, but he looked like he had no intention of leaving the castle.

Students bustled through the halls of the train, finding their friends and claiming compartments. Rose headed for the far end, where she knew Albus would be waiting.

She had not expected to see Scorpius in the compartment as well. "Surprise, surprise," he said. "You missed all the fun, you know"

"James came," explained Albus. "He had a few choice words for Scorp, who told him to bugger off."

Rose knew she should side with her cousin on this matter, but she could not. "His loss," she said, sitting across from the boys. "So, who's up for a game of wizards chess?"

"I'll play you," said Scorpius. "You still need the practice."

Albus stretched lazily. "Rose," he said suddenly, "did you ever turn that key to Flitwick's office?"

She thought about it for a moment. "I think Lorcan still has it," she said. "I hope it's not missed..."

As the train rolled into motion, the compartment door slid open. "James is being a grouch," said Lysander as he entered with his twin. Looking at Scorpius, he said, "I knew we'd find you here."

Scorpius shrugged, obviously unconcerned. "You can't make everyone like you," he said. "Not that I haven't tried."

Rose grinned. "Maybe he thinks you're using Albus and I guess close to our parents," she joked. "Maybe he has your entire plan worked out."

"I think he's just protective," said Lorcan. "He doesn't want either of you getting hurt."

"If you say so," said Scorpius dismissively. "So long as he and his friends steer clear of that scare tactic junk. I'm not interested in dueling him."

Lysander set himself up next to Rose and watched as she and Scorpius played chess. Lorcan curled into catlike ball and fell asleep almost immediately. Albus was in charge of collecting snacks from the trolley when it came around.

"Wake up," said Lysander, nudging his brother as Albus deposited the snacks on the seat. "Albus got food."

"Not hungry," groaned Lorcan. "Too tired."

"What did you get?" Scorpius asked Albus, who was playing with a wizards card.

"This? Oh, I got this one at the beginning of the year." Albus showed it to Scorpius. "I kept is because of my name, see?"

"But your name it is Albus," said Scorpius, obviously confused.

Rose looked over to see the card. "Albus Severus Potter," she told Scorpius. The top of the card read _Severus Snape_.

_An often misunderstood man, Severus Snape was a key member of the Order of the Phoenix during both great modern Wizarding wars. Employed as a double agent under the late Albus Dumbledore, he never married or had children. He served as longtime Potions master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizarding, as well as holding the position of Headmaster for a short while._

"Why do you keep it?" asked Scorpius quietly as Rose sat back.

Albus shrugged. "I thought it was either a good sign or a bad sign," he explained. "I took it as a good one."

Scorpius busied himself with opening a chocolate frog. "Nicholas Flamel," he said. "Al, good or bad sign?"

"I say good," said Albus with a laugh.

The reality of impending summer only truly set in as the train pulled into Kings Cross station. Staying in a close group, Rose, Albus, and Scorpius took their bags and ventured out into the station.

Rose found her parents standing with Albus'. The Malfoy's were not with the group.

"I'll find them," Scorpius said as Rose a scanned the crowd. "You two get home safe, okay?"

"We'll write," promised Rose. "My birthday is in July. I expect to see you at the party."

This made Scorpius grin. "Me, at a Weasley party? Oh, you can count on it."

Rose watched him until his figure disappeared into the smoke. Finally, she turned to her family, all of whom were regarding her oddly.

"I know," she said, "okay, I know. He's a Malfoy."

A group of students bustled viaduct into Rose's trolley, knocking one of the trunks out. Before she could bend down to get it, someone else was there.

"I've got it," said Alistair Trimble, kneeling to grab Rose's trunk. He lifted it back into the trolley and looked up, wearing a perfectly amiable grin.

"Thank you," said Rose stiffly.

"Not a problem," said Alistair smoothly. "Have a good summer, Rose."

It was the closest she had been to him since the third task. She stiffened automatically, wishing she held her wand.

Over his shoulder, Rose spotted two small girls with matching brown bobs. They wore oversized sunglasses and squashed-looking Muggle hats. As one, they tilted their heads and grinned. Gemma tapped her neck, the sunlight bringing out the red in her yarn bracelet.

Rose glanced to Rafael's neck. A thick cord was tucked beneath his shirt.

"You too, Alistair," she said. It was a relief to see him turn and walk away, for what she hoped to be the last time. She nodded to the Gemini, who grinned, before turning back to her family.

"I didn't know you knew the Hogwarts champion," said Ron. "Do letters tell you nothing these days?"

Rose rolled her eyes. "I've just seen him around," she said. "Come on. Let's go home."

**A/N: Wow.**

**If you are reading this right now, then... wow.**

**Thank you all so much for embarking on this grand adventure with me. And thus concludes year one, Rose Weasley and the Callamitus Clause.**

**The next chapter will contain an FAQ and all of my thank you's. If you have any questions, well, now is the time to ask them! If you enjoyed the story, feel free to drop me a quick note and tell me. :) If you hated it, well, bugger off. Kidding! Just kidding. I'd love negative feedback as well so I can improve year two.**

**Ah, yes, year two. I'll be revealing the title of year two at the end of my FAQ section. :) I'm almost done writing it, so I'll be able to give you all a projected release date.**

**This is getting a bit lengthy, so I'll save the rest for the FAQ. All I can say right now is thank you, thank you, thank you. 3**


	22. FAQ

**A/N: Hello, and welcome to the **_**Rose Weasley and the Callamitus Clause**_** Frequently Asked Questions section! I decided to do this to clear up any confusion that may have occurred over reading the novel. Let's get started, shall we?**

**(If you're only here for the title of Year Two, it's all the way at the bottom. ;D)**

_Isn't Slughorn too old to be teaching at this point?_

**No, not at all! What we must remember is that wizards and witches live much longer than Muggles do. Dumbledore is the perfect example of this. He was quoted as being what, 150 years old? And he was, I am sad to say, still in his prime at his time of death.**

_Is Madame Chang actually Cho Chang?_

**Very keen of you! ****Yes, Madame Chang is indeed Cho Chang. She decided to train as a Healer, and since she loves children, she applied for a post at Hogwarts. She's been there for a few years now and has a handle on the whole school. At this point, she is not married and has no children of her own.**

_Why was Madame Chang crying? What was with the handkerchief and picture when Rose was there?_

**Alas, Cho was crying over Cedric. I want to make this clear: she has moved on from being all in love with him. She is not withering away, searching for love in her memories. It's just that the Tournament brings up so many painful memories for her… it's acceptable to remember him at this point. No matter what, he was part of her life. But yes, she has moved on.**

_Why did Teddy show up at the Yule Ball?_

**Teddy misses Victoire as much, if not more, than she misses him. He is willing to use his gift as a Metamorphmagus to see her whenever possible. Poor guy—Victoire had just written to tell him that she was going to the Ball with Molly. Imagine his shock when he saw her in the opening dance with Rafael! Don't worry, though, they kiss and make up. ;)**

_How is Dmitri's name pronounced?_

**In this case, it is Duh-mee-tree. **

_In the first chapter, isn't it supposed to be Hermione Weasley, not Granger?_

**-slams head into wall—**

**This is actually my favorite question because you are all **_**so right**_** and I made such a big mistake so early on! Yes, it should have been Hermione Weasley, not Granger. I mustn't have been thinking too clearly when I was typing it up. I will remember this for later years! –mutters about marriage and names and tigers, oh my!—**

_What is the deal with the Gemini / the creepy little witch twins?_

**xD This is always one of the top questions, and it's horrible because….I can't really tell you. ^^; All I will say is that there are forces of good and forces of evil, and they fall into one of those two categories. Also, you have not seen the last of them….**

_Does Rose seriously judge time by the sun?_

**I suppose that statement was a bit misleading. It's something that she learned to do when she was younger and out on the Grange (see Year Two) with her cousins. They don't wear watches, so to see what time it was, they'd look at the position of the sun. Rose was always the best at it.**

**Now that they're at school, she can only tell because she knows the **_**exact**_** position of the school from where she is in the cave. It's not too terribly difficult—she also took into account how long they had been awake and all of that fun stuff. Really, it was just an estimation. xD**

_Isn't Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes in Diagon Alley, not Hogsmeade?_

**Thiiis is something I should have explained properly in the story. George has done very well with the joke shop. They expanded so that they now have stores in both locations. He and Angelina run the one in Hogsmeade, where they live with children Fred and Roxanne, while other people run the shop on Diagon Alley. They decided that Hogsmeade was a better place to raise a family.**

_"Rose glanced to Rafael's neck. A thick cord was tucked beneath his shirt."_

**This mistake had me pulling my hair out for hours after it was first pointed out to me. Seriously. I have bald spots from it.**

**Yes, I meant Alistair, not Rafael. Yes, it was a stupid, horrible mistake to make, especially during the last freaking sentences of the story. Yes, I regret it immensely. **

**This was not the first time I made the mistake, by the way. I drove my sister and Beta crazy because I kept switching Alistair and Rafael's names around. Don't ask me why, because honestly, I don't know why. 0.0**

_What is the name of Year Two?_

**Okay, so I cheated a bit. No one actually asked me that question, but since I'm finishing writing it now, I suppoooooose I have to tell you.**

_**Rose Weasley and the League of Dragon Riders**_

**Let the theories begin!**


	23. Year Two Preview

**Greetings, readers! Happy Holidays to you all, for whatever you may celebrate. I would like to take this time to announce that I will be uploading the first chapter of Year Two (League of Dragon Riders) to ring in the new year. As a little teaser, I've decided to give you all a short preview of the first chapter. I hope you enjoy!**

Rose Weasley's mouth filled with ink.

Wincing, she searched for a handkerchief or scrap of cloth—anything to remove the horrible metallic taste from her mouth. All she could find was a ripped corner of parchment that had fallen by her bed. It would have to do.

Her tawny owl cooed at her from across the room. "Hush, Selena," said Rose, blotting at her tongue. "I'll feed you in a minute."

With one last coo, Selena went back to sleep.

Rose glared at her quill. She had sucked on the tip of it, forgetting that it wasn't a sugar quill. Now it lay on her partially-finished letter, slowly pooling ink on the parchment.

Before it could do more damage, Rose picked the quill up, dipped it in the open inkwell by her bed, and continued the letter.

_Sorry about the ink. Blame Selena, my owl. Did you ever meet her? I don't think you did._

_Anyway, we all miss you and hope to hear back soon._

_Happy July!_

She signed the letter with a sigh and set it down to dry. Part of her wondered why she even bothered to send letters anymore. It had been a full month, and she had yet to hear from Dmitri Romolov.

Her door burst open as she finished folding the letter. Rose jumped, and her elbow slammed into her side table. The half-full inkwell toppled to the floor.

"Whoops," said the taller of the two boys now standing in Rose's doorway. "Sorry, Rose. Let me get that—"

The smaller boy grabbed his arm. "No magic outside of school, James," he reminded his older brother wearily.

"Right, Al." James pocketed his wand. "Stupid Underage Wizarding laws."

"Stupid underage wizard," countered Rose. "G'morning, James, Albus."

"Happy birthday!" said Albus, slipping a small wrapped box onto Rose's desk. "We're doing presents with the parents later."

Rose slid her eyes to the package he had brought, then back to him.

"Later," he mouthed as James knelt by the bed.

"Ah, it was almost empty anyway," he lied, picking up the inkwell. "Your mum can get it off the floor in an instant."

"James?"

The three of them froze.

"Bloody hell, she's good," whispered James. "How'd she do that?"

"He's coming!" Albus called back down to Hermione, who had summoned James. "You'd better go, James. It's chopping carrots for you."

James grumbled as he left the room. Albus closed the door and scooped up the package from the desk.

"It's from Scorpius," he explained, handing it to Rose. "He sent it to my place yesterday. Didn't want Uncle Ron blowing it up, I suppose."

Rose took the parcel from him and began to unwrap it. The first thing she saw was Scorpius' sharp letters on the parchment. But that slid aside to reveal—"

"Bloody hell," breathed Albus. "Is that-?"

The parcel was unmistakable. Scorpius Malfoy had sent Rose a phoenix feather.

"It's beautiful," said Rose softly, lifting it from the paper carefully. "Where did he get it?"

"Check the letter," said Albus.

_Rose,_ it read.

_Happy birthday! I sent this through Al so your dad wouldn't see it. I still can't believe they had a row the middle of Hogsmeade. Awful, eh?_

_So I know you like phoenixes, and I saw this while I was out with Mum and asked if I could get it. I don't think she knew it was for you, but oh well. The shopkeeper said it makes you more clear-sighted—not like you need that, right?_

_Send old Selena over when you and Al get your school letters. We'll meet up on Diagon Alley. Nothing our dads can do about that, eh?_

_Happy Birthday!_

_Scorpius Malfoy_

"I love it," said Rose, setting the letter down. "So, is Mum cooking already? It smells wonderful."

"Waffles," said Albus grinned. "Your favorite."

"And yours," said Rose, laughing. "Come on, let me get ready. I'll meet you down there in a minute."

Albus his eyes fell on the letter Rose had left on her bedside table. "Still no reply?" He said as Rose grabbed it, covering Dmitri's name. "Rose, it's been a month."

"I'm starting to get worried," she said wearily. "What if something happened to him? What if - -"

"Alistair did not hunt him down," said Albus firmly. "Remember? He said he didn't want Dmitri dead."

"Maybe he changed his mind," said Rose. "Maybe... I mean, he killed Rafael. What's to say he won't go after his brother?"

"That's was during the tournament," Albus reminded her. "It's like Dad said. The tournament, it changes people."

Rosalie sighed. The Triwizard Tournament had been a harrowing experience, especially with the death of Rafael Romolov. His younger brother, Dmitri, had appeared to be Alistair Trimble's next target.

"James told me last week that he still has nightmares about it," Albus confided in Rose. "Seeing Rafael's body after they cut him free... It must've been awful."

"I can't even imagine it," said Rose with a shiver.

Before they could continue with the unhappy topic, Hermione's voice echoed up the stairs.

"Al?" she called.

"Yes, Aunt Hermione?"

"Be a dear and come help your brother? He doesn't understand what he's doing."

James was certainly up to his usual mischief in the kitchen. Rolling his eyes, Albus stood.

"Come and save me as soon as you can," he whispered. "I'm no good with cooking."

"You'll do fine," said Rose reassuringly as Albus left. With a sigh, she slid her legs over the side of the bed and stood.

"I'm coming," she told her owl. "I'm coming."

She gave the letter to Selena and looked her directly in the eyes. "Get this to Dmitri," she said clearly, enunciated each word carefully. "Durmstrang Academy. Dmitri Romolov."

Selena cooed, the sound distorted by the letter in her beak. Rose opened the window, and out Selena flew.

Rose had always loved the view from her room. She had a clear shot of the back of her family's property, the property that stretched onto the Grange. Today, the sun shone down onto the vibrant green grass, which nearly sparkled in the intense light.

She dressed quickly, choosing a dress her grandmum had made her the previous year. She only wore one piece of jewelry- the Prewett locket, a family heirloom that had helped her save Rafael's life last year.

Well, save it for a while, at least.

Rose refused to continue thinking about the previous year. It was her twelfth birthday, and she fully intended to enjoy it.

**So yes, League of Dragon Riders will be posted in less than a week! I am very excited and would love to hear your expectations so I can be sure to meet them. I hope you enjoyed the preview!**


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